Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
Earlier posts can be found on Adventures of a Lone Bass Player, where this blog began life. Recent entries can be found here.
Poor Poorly Puss
by admin - 18:15 on 21 May 2014
Another day, another visit to Dr Death's premises. I may not be able to afford much more foreign travel but the doctor and his staff will be able to fly around the world thanks to Matchgirl's bottomless pockets when it comes to The Pride's medical care.
Pandora was today's patient. The Tabby Terror showed no sign of improvement, and even less sign of appetite, so the miserable moggy was driven into Dingwall by Matchgirl while I stayed home to look after Willow, who's now so fit and well that the greatest task imposed on her guardian is ensuring she doesn't pull out her stitches during boisterous activity.
Matchgirl returned carrying a cat filled with antibiotics and appetite stimulant and the good news that Willow's blood test had proved negative for all forms of contagion.
The origin of her malady remains unknown, however. Dr Vet confirmed that Pandora was suffering from the same ailment and that since Willow had visited the clinic several more moggies had been brought in displaying similar symptoms. Whatever she had, Willow had it first.
I blame Mystery Moggy, who was caught on camera last night stealing pine marten treats. Who knows what toxins he trots into the garden. There's no wonder we've not yet seen a daylight marten this year (although there were several Bushnell snaps, I'm happy to say).
Another prime suspect is Maia. She's long harboured dreams of being an only cat and is suspiciously free of the current pussycat plague. Who knows what black cats get up to in the night.
As for poorly Pandora, yesterday she didn't want any fuss. Today she uttered sad little cries until I made my lap available, whereupon she curled up and snoozed. Not much work will get done but at least I'm keeping the cat happy. I know my place.
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Fancy thinking of Maia that way, you should be ashamed of yourself.