Nine Lives

Cat’s medical problems this week have brought me up close and personal with the possibility of his death sooner rather than later.

But hey, let’s look on the bright side; cats have nine lives, right? So depending on how many he’s used up, there could still be quite a lot of life left.

So, time for a bit of accounting.

I’m going to bracket all the sitting in the middle of the street as a car comes towards him as one.

I don’t think any of his fights were life threatening, though he was playing fast and loose with his looks.

Then was the time he fell off the boat, that’s obviously a second.

He’s stood up to foxes, but I’ve not seen any of them go for him.

I’ve had lilies in the flat and they are poisonous, but fortunately he’s not succumbed.

Once he jumped from the window onto the roof, had a lovely time exploring and gazing down at my worried face, and then couldn’t get back in. I rescued him with an improvised bridge made from an old bookshelf. So I don’t think that counts. He wanted to do it again the next night, and I have to make sure that particular window is never very wide open.

He got stuck behind my mother’s washing machine once, but rescuing him only damaged his dignity.

There’s only one other life threatening occasion I can think of, and that’s the time he fell out of the window. This is what happened. Continue reading