Sick Boy

MasterB and I are going to have an early night. At least, that’s the plan. I’m tired and he’s off colour.


The day started at about half past four with MasterB being very vocal and bouncing on me. I rose groggily from my bed and he led me in a determined way to the kitchen. I led him to the sitting room and tipped the last of yesterday’s biscuit allowance in the Catcher. Sleep for me, and some digging in the bathroom for him.

So I wasn’t surprised when I got up properly, and slightly later than the lark, to find he’d used the litter tray. Not much of a pee. He could have held on, I thought.


Still, I know my place, so before getting my breakfast, got rid of the used litter, relined his tray with the Evening Standard (which is a perfect fit) and put new litter in. MasterB climbed in at once, turned circles in the tray, put his left leg on the side, squatted, stood up, turned more circles, and eventually had a very small pee.

I repeated my litter tray cleaning. He asked to go out when I went down to get rid of the now two bags of cat waste, and I enjoyed my breakfast without further incident.

Showered and ready for work, I went to bring him in. Straight into the bathroom, more circles in the tray, and a teeny weeny amount of pee. No crying, no apparent discomfort. Odd. Continue reading

Who’s in Charge?

It’s one of those days when you wonder if there is a coup going on at the weather HQ; different factions grabbing at the controls leaving poor old Johnny and Josephine Human not knowing if they are coming or going.
Morning came early chez IsobelandCat with the rustle of very hungry paws across the acres of mewspaper spread out across the carpets. MasterB was feeling better.



He was fine and dandy on Saturday morning, bouncing about like a good’un, demanding food with menaces, visiting the new neighbours and running about the garden. I was in and out, completing a longish list of tasks and feeling quite pleased with myself, only the stain on the bedroom carpet where MasterB threw up last Sunday refused steadfastly to yield to the array of products I introduced to it. Continue reading

Back from the Vet’s

We’re home and we’ve eaten. One of us had a mouthful, if that, of Sensitive Control, the other a largish meal rounded off with apple crumble. I’ll leave you to guess who ate what.
MasterB is looking a bit brighter I think. He had quite a raised temperature, so received three injections; one to lower the temperature, one to stop him feeling sick, and one of penicillin to fight whatever might be going on. He has a shaved patch by his neck as the vet took blood samples too. Just in case.
Tomorrow we go back and she will see if he is any better. As she said, he was rather floppy. He wanted to stay outside when we got back, but I soon brought him in, and he’s made himself comfortable on the sofa. Continue reading

Rôle Reversal

Just a week ago it was Cat who sat in vigil beside my feverish body. But last night the tables turned again. He was a bit subdued when I got back back from my New year’s Eve do, showed very little interest in the presents he’d been sent (nominally by my friends’ cat, but really by them of course. The two boys do not get on, but that’s another story). He didn’t want to eat, and after greeting me briefly and rather sleepily went back to bed.

At around four o’clock he woke me up with an odd miaow. Then jumped off the bed and I recognised the signs of imminent vomiting. I scooped him up just a few moments too late.
Continue reading

Time for Bed

It’s late.

I should have been in bed hours ago. As it is I haven’t even had my bath.

Cat was sick earlier. First indoors, then he asked to go out, and heaved away in a corner flowerbed, while I watched from a discreet distance. He likes his privacy. Cats’ bodies seem to ripple convulsively from tail to nose when they are sick. It looks exhausting.

The cubs were about but fortunately not taking too close an interest. Cat ate some grass. He had diarrhoea again earlier this evening, so the flora of his gut is definitely still not a happy place. More bucket than bouquet.

He wanted to stay outside for awhile, which meant I stayed outside too; spraying cubs with the water bottle when they wanted to get up close and personal with Cat; and getting cross with them scrambling over my car. Anyway, they got the message and retreated to watch me from the garden walls.

Indoors, Cat headed straight for his bowl. Then he had a nap on my lap. Now he’s curled up in his bed. Asleep. Sensible boy. I think I should copy his example.

Sweet dreams.