Well.....
I honestly thought I would write SOMETHING a bit sooner but then life has a way of getting in the way, and who knew what was around the corner.
It's been an age since Betty AKA my Creative Director featured here and, at the risk of appearing like a batty cat woman, today was an appropriate day to feature her on the front cover as it were. Inspired by a new find on the net, Susan at e-i-e-i-omg (what a great name!) I thought it was well beyond an acceptable timeframe for saying nothing. Not that I believe anyone at all will even be bothering to check in any more....(shout if you do).
Summer was upon us, in fact it had all but gone on our return from Kefalonia (and man that was hot). The garden harvesting was in full swing, work was busy, life was normal.
5th August 6.00am 'Bleep' went the cat flap. The lovely new high tech, chip reading, installed in a glass panel at an exorbitant cost cat flap designed to keep the right cats in and importantly out, as a certain cat in the neighbourhood was inclined to pay us ininvited visits.
6.30am I'm afraid some cats like the taste of birds a whole lot more than others. Thankfully Betty has only ever really been interested in the pre-cooked variety or at least the 'delivered to your door' type i.e. if Cat A has done all the work and she moves in to clear up. I'm afraid Basil is in the Cat A category and at this point, I spied him enjoying his latest target over on the lawn. I stood and watched. I am not squeamish and in fact had to finish one off for him earlier this year as his boisterous play was not the kindest thing to observe, clearly tweety was on his way.
7.00am 'Bleep' "Basil, you are a bad boy...we saw you" "Are you coming in now? Are you done?" "No you can't come in here, I'm going for a shower" "Go on, out"
7.10am. Doorbell. "Do you have a white cat?" "I'm really sorry"........
We were always nervous about that road. Not an A road, not a city road, but our busy residential road and a risk. A risk highlighted by the lady from the cat rescue centre weighed up against not re-homing cats who end up in there for months and months. A risk we took. And lost.
Betty has been a fixture for 11 years. She's always been very shy, and the 'neighbourly' cat to which I referred had become something of a nuisance to the degree that she'd been afraid to leave the house some times, the cause of cystitis brought on by stress. Long story short, we decided to fight fire with fire and Basil was brought in to reclaim some territory out there. He took to the task like a man and those pretty pink ears were soon battled scarred and leathery. Betty even started to poke around outdoors a bit more, and join in the 'negotiations' in a kind of two pronged attack; her brains, his brawn.
But Basil, like thousands before him, was no match for half a ton of moving metal. Gone in the blink of an eye.
Monday 12th December
6.00am Puddle on the bedroom floor. Cystitis. Vet. £62
Tuesday 13th December
5am Twelve puddles on.............the bed. This is no longer cystitis. There's blood.
5am-8.30am A puddle every 30 mins.
8.30am "Hello? .....It's alot worse" "Bring her in"
We have a great vet and thankfully he is just around the corner; Betty screams from the minute she is 'encaged'.
Thursday 15th December
6.15pm. She's back home. A little bald patch. A bloody test tube of bladder stones as a souvenir. £630. And she's purring her little head off.
Worth every penny.
