Poor Monster

I came home last night to blood red paw prints all over the place. I knew one of the three cats must have hurt themselves and it turned out to be Monster. Poor little guy had cut his paw pad on a can in the bin.
He is always trying to get in the bin. I have it in a cupboard with a chair in front of it, but somehow he got in. I felt so responsible, I shouldn't have put the can in there, I should have taken in outside. In my defense, he has never, in his 9 or so years hurt himself like that.
It's quite a nasty cut and he didn't appreciate the antiseptic at all. I was just as distressed as he was. I could see he had run around everywhere from the prints. He must have been scared as well as hurt.
He is getting lots of extra attention from me (and everyone) at the moment. He is lapping it up between limping around on three legs (although he can sure move quick when he knows food is on its way).
I am going to keep an eye on him, he may need to go to the vet. An excursion neither of us would enjoy.
I still feel so sorry for him, sorry I wasn't able to prevent or at least be here when he was hurt. Poor little boy (ok, poor 8kg boy).
I am now on the way to requiring antiseptic myself, damn he struggles when the medicine comes out! He spent today building up the energy while sleeping on my bed - which he is not normally allowed to do. He gets special treatment til his ouch heals up!
Tragically, he tried to get in the bin again tonight. He likes living up to his name...