This might have been a blog about the weather, but the battle inside my brain seems to have resulted in a victory for yet another cat-poo update.
What this constant theme says about me I hate to think. But all day to this point of decision, there’s been a cat update and a complaint about Bank Holiday weather circling each other warily inside my head, now and then a feint, here and there an outright attack, until my synapses didn’t know which way to turn.
How they ever know that is a mystery to me, and I certainly don’t know why they’ve settled on the cats’ unpleasant day yesterday instead of the awful weather yesterday and today, but that’s what they’ve done.
It began on the landing carpet, where Felix had left me enough deposits for ten cats, after being a Good Boy for some time now. The next (wary) step was on the dining room carpet, or what used to be the dining room before it became Felix’s Very Own Room. Here is where he’d thrown up, not quite as copiously but fairly significantly. Cat breakfast was prepared late, after clean-up, and mine even later; however, since nobody actually seemed to want any breakfast apart from me, maybe I could have left cat breakfast out entirely.
Some minuscule quantities were consumed at mid-day, except by Felix, and led to no particular trouble.
For supper 3 small portions of fresh chicken went down OK, but not long thereafter it was Fluff’s turn to throw up. In the living room. Variety is…..
Overnight I left only water, hiding the usual dry food and hoping the whole thing would have cleared up by today. So far so good. But it’s only 3.30.
The synapses are currently flashing on and off in contemplation of what may yet be lurking round the corner.
Little and often is supposed to work best for older cats, but someone forgot to tell yesterday.