The cat and I have visited the vet. He
took it all in stride, but I had to lie down for a while. And some
time this evening the wife gets home. So all is well.
It was an abscess on his back. They shaved the area, rummaged
around, flushed it out, and everyone remarked upon what a good cat he
is. He looks a little strange now, but is obviously feeling
better because he settled for fixing his own breakfast at around three
o'clock this morning. I know this because he came upstairs to tell
me, and even offered to share.
A behavior I usually
frown upon, but under these circumstances I decided to call
I have for a long time understood that he is a serial killer, with a
particular rage against rabbits. He seems to enjoy torture. He
eats feathers, but not the hind parts of rodents. He is wary of
snakes and hosepipes. And when his night is over he likes sleeping
in the sun.
But like me he is seasonal. He
does not like windiness or unnecessary dampness. He does not like cold or
heat. In Spring when the sap is rising, he generally gets damaged
working his domain.
We also share
a certain elderliness, a commitment to routine, a fondness for the same
armchair, and a memory of each other that often includes affection.