The ever-reliable and completely awesome Jan George was happy to babysit the Gallery. She made excellent use of her time in the chair, creating yet more stunning beaded pendants and chains. I doubt there is nothing that Jan can't do - she is an artist, sculptor, poet, singer, muso and jewellery maker. Add cook and gardener, along with fabulous friend and that is Jan.
The fickle fairweather feline was confined to barracks this morning, much to her annoyance. Attempting to secure her inside her car carrier was almost a Bridge Too Far. We are talking about a four-kilo cat here. Legs were splayed, claws dug in, protests announced at full throttle. Michael and I each had an end of her body but still suffered two epic fails before the deed was successfully managed.
We had decided to return to Doctor Graeme at "the Vet", tucked into Northam suburbia. Graeme had previously been at the receiving end of Pip's bottom on another visit and had not banned the little bastard for either that appalling behaviour or trying to bite him. This episode was burned into all our psyches forever. I have never known another dog to use diarrhoea as a Weapon of Mass Destruction.
Graeme has agreed to "welcome" Pip back into the fold for another nail clipping and anal glands clearing. I think Graeme needs full body armour and very good life insurance. And don't even get me started on the Problem Child's carsickness.
Anyway, I've digressed. The trip to Northam was most unpleasant with the Cat yowling the whole way - about fifty minutes. Once in the consulting room and out of her carrier, she then became sweetness and light, charming and docile. We left her there whilst we attended to Michael's feet.
Laura, of the Foot Studio, cleaned, sanded, clipped and filed Michael's feet for quite some time. He was very pleased with the result and has even consented to the idea of orthotics to assist his much-maligned mobility issues. During his twenties, whilst on his motorbike, Michael's knee collided with a pink-and-grey galah at high speed. The encounter changed the position of his right foot quite dramatically. Then, fifteen years later, he broke his left foot whilst playing with his children. Needless to say, he didn't hurry into action after either incident. Until now. Just a great deal of whingeing about sore feet. Do all men have to be frogmarched by their partners to health practitioners?!
Back to debriefing with Graeme. Ruby-Cat was quietly back in her carrier and the centre of attention.
Despite her thirteen years, her teeth, lungs and heart are all in good shape. He couldn't find any lurking masses within her body and no hyperthyroidism. What he did find was galloping blood pressure and early stage kidney disease. Both common in older cats and both eminently treatable.
There was no hesitation. Sascha, our darling departed Weimaraner and Ruby, the disaster-seeking Beagle, have both cost us a King's ransom on several occasions. The Cat has been far more economical. And there is another reason to allow her to enjoy her twilight years in comfort. Although she would never admit it, Madame adores Michael and he adores her right back. In fact, if she doesn't settle within Michael's reach once he has retired for the night, he will not sleep well. She is also a fantastic mouser.
We drove home with cat, new medication and invoice. She refused to look at Michael, turning her back on him as he tried to soothe her injured ego. Her feline vocal protests were quieter, but she was obviously still very much aggrieved. Once home, we released her inside and decided to insult her body once more by giving her the first blood pressure pill.
The only downside is the size of the tablets for her blood pressure. As she is only a light cat, she requires...wait for it...only a quarter of an already small oval tablet. And at over $32 for five tablets (which should theoretically serve her for twenty days), my first attempt to break the aforementioned tablet into four was woeful.
We ended up wrapping her in a towel so she took the appearance of a feline tortilla. And again, with both of us, we had three failures prior to getting the tiny skerrick of medication down her reluctant throat. This promises to be so much fun for us all...
The second I opened the front door to come to the Gallery, Madame fled. She continues to be in a very shirty mood. I must admit to a touch of quaking fear with the approach of evening. Could a garlic necklace deter a homicidal cat? If this blog falls silent, dear readers, you will understand that we have been the unfortunate victims of a fury-filled feline.
Hover-Cat
Dominatrix-Cat
Sedative-Cat
Considering-Cat
Homicidal-Cat
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