Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, memories of a much-missed moggie, three adventurous new cats, a camera, a computer and a garden filled with wildlife
Many Unhappy Returns
by admin - 21:21 on 04 July 2013
The Rural Retreat's resident moggies were to celebrate their birthdays today, but fate can be cruel.
Maia (3) and Pandora (1) had a great time playing with their new extra-tall scratching post and getting over-excited while fighting with their new catnip toys. The big fish that The Tabby Terror stole from Maia, in preference to her much smaller mouse, was so powerful that after half an hour the dazed feline had to find a quiet corner to sleep off her intoxication.
Willow, however, spent the day curled up in the carrier in which she'd returned this morning from a short-notice appointment at Dr Death's clinic. Poor puss.
She'd entered the cottage yesterday evening in an agitated state but after allowing her fur to be unruffled and joining the rest of us in a walk up the lane she appeared to be fine until bedtime, when she chose an unusual sleeping place. She was still there this morning, and a gentle stroke elicited a displeased yowl.
A couple of hours later, Dr Locum discovered a scratch or bite on her hindquarters, probably inflicted by one of the Mystery Moggies, which he treated with an injection from The Syringe That Cures Everything. Despite this, the patient refused to leave her carrier and spurned all offers of food and drink until the evening when she took a few teaspoons of cat milk and water, had a brief wander across the floor then returned to the safety of her cave. Poor poorly puss.
We hope her medication will take effect overnight, otherwise there could be another trip to Dr Death's in the morning. Three moggies may be three times the fun but they also mean three times the vet's bills.
Although no snappery took place today, I have two new bird portraits to add to my collection. They feature one of a trio of crows (I was mistaken about them being rooks) who like to wake us up at six. Handsome they may be; restful they're not.
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