The Key

As relationships go, this is another new experience for me – I’ve been given my very own key to P’s front door! Mind you, this being the world of me, it’s not as straightforward as you’d normally expect as her house also has an alarm system to battle past.

Naturally, P has given me the code to the alarm system, but with me having virtually zero capacity to remember phone numbers, people names, birthdays (spot the impending problem with that!) and PIN numbers, the chances of me remembering the alarm code are pretty slim indeed.

Still, if they ever arrive, I’m sure the police will be very understanding about this strange person the neighbours don’t really know much about setting the house alarm off.

Panic Stations

I was driving home from work on Friday evening when I received a panic phone call from my mother. My little cat had just had a fit and she didn’t look well – in fact, my Dad thought she’d died. But by the time I’d got there she appeared to have come round and was wondering what all the concerned fuss was about.

Still, we made an emergency appointment at the vets, place her in her carrying basket (she started to complain about being in it – a usual occurrence so she was already on the mend) and headed off to the vets.

I must admit, at a grand old age of nineteen, I feared the worse, after all in human years she’s nearly one hundred years old and it was like your great grand mother having an epileptic fit.

But I noticed so many things about her personality – such as her vocal protests and her inquisitive nature– that I knew that whatever had just occurred was a quite possibly just a “blip”.

Whilst my mother explained what she’d seen, the vet prodded and poked her and didn’t look too overly concerned. Given that she has kidney problems he thought that it could be problem with too much urea in the blood so he decided a blood test was in order. My poor little fur ball was whisked away, had a bit of her fur shaved and blood was taken. £70 lighter, we went home and waited for the results.

It didn’t take long for the vet to phone and, for the moment at least, it was good news. There was no problem with her kidneys and he put the fit down to her age – or that she might have a some sort of growth on the brain. He didn’t even know whether it would occur again or it was simply a one off. We just need to keep an eye on her and, if she does have another fit, just let her get on with it and then settle her. However, if they do get more frequent then it would be best to “call it a day” (his words, not mine).

So, my little sweet and furry fuzz ball, you mean so much to me and I don’t know what I’d do without you. Keep warm and stay healthy. But judging by the picture I took of you this morning, you are doing just that!