And... no... no, we've lost him again.
This is Nimzo - from the chess player Aron Nimzowitsch and one of his many legacies to the game, the Nimzo-Indian Defense.
I found him on the side of the road one night - he wasn't much older than 3-4 months. He was in a bad state... traumatized, seemed to have been poisonned by something and sick as ****, worms in his liquid faeces, and a deep, infected gash along his right hindlimb - pretty much in line with the fibula, making me think he managed to get trapped in a fence or something and pulled out. I mostly treated him by myself: washed him, disinfected the wound, got him to eat sleep and eventually exercise a bit. Soon enough he looked more like a cat and started to lick and care to his hind scar by himself. When I brought him to the vet for checkup/vermifuge I was told I did very well and that he was perfectly alright.
His first litter box was a big cake pan. I'll never forget, when I put him in there, he just stood on all four, rigid and shaking, and everything came out all at once and it was a ****ing mess. I had managed to grab an overexpensive bag of litter from the corner store that night, but they didn't have boxes... probably better that way, he could barely manage to get into the pan for the first couple days, I don't imagine with higher walls... Got him the deluxe box once he got strong enough to move alright.
His wounded hindlimb was more or less atrophied for a while, and would start to shake a bit when I made him play, but eventually it catched up with his growing up as I was told it most probably would. Now he's a big, strong cat - nearing 7 years old.