He's an old campaigner, but also a delicate little soul. Cat has lived with us nearly four years now, we are his humans. So when he limped home with what looked like a broken leg and blood all over his paws, we thought he was a goner.
It was the fist time we had taken him to the vet, he wasn't too happy about being loaded into a cage and made the most terrific racket on the three-mile journey.
We had assumed his owner was an old lady up the road who had died. When we first saw him he was thin, hungry and most insistent, the old snow-on-the-back trick fooled Noel and he was in. So when the vet scanned him for a chip, there it was, beeping away.
I was horrified to think that his real owner may want him back. By law the vet can't treat him unless he's in pain. He was, he was covered in abscesses, with a particularly nasty one on his bottom. The result of a catfight. I'd hate to have seen the other fellow. He needed a general anaesthetic at a cost of Stupid Pounds. Of course we don't have insurance, but we've grown so attached to him that it was worth it. We also had to register his name, Cat. Cat Akers……
The worst thing is worrying that his real owner might still be around and want him back. If so, I have a cunning catnapping plan….They have seven days to respond or by default, he's ours.
We just brought him back, groggy, half-shaven and with some open wounds that I really wasn't going to photograph and post. He's achieved his objective, we are now, most definitely, his humans.
Today's lovely thing
The contented purring of a cat