Kitchen Closed

My Dear Fellow,

As of 11pm last night, all the catty biscuits were lifted and the wet cat food put away. This is because of The Big Boof. Spud. Fatty Bumsticks.

As you may remember from Saturday, he proved difficult when the teeny tiny mini-vet was trying to take blood from him. This meant he had to be taken to Portobello today where they had "more manpower". 

But, the vet warned, if he still resisted their team of Burly Men Vets then he might have to be sedated. Hence why we had to garnish the food. This wasn't that big a deal for Jaspercat. He has his fat reserves to draw on and besides, if you don't feed him he just goes to sleep. But Punky LOVES food. When it is catty supper time he prances like a Lipizzaner pony, curling his paws and walking sideways. 

It really is the most adorable display.

Punky was disturbed about the lack of food situ and queried it quite forcefully at 4.30am. I shooed him away with a couple of words which I expect you can guess, but this did not stop him returning at 5. And 5.15. And 5.30...

By the time I was ready to leave for work he was frantic. Prancing, chirping, whirling, wheedling, meowing, dancing and scratching the furniture. Poor little chap.

The story ends well though. Er Indoors took the boofer to the vet in Portie where - I assume - a trained crack squad of commando vets pinned him down and took blood. So no sedation necessary and the boys were reunited and fed by 10am.

Now I am home from work and normal service has been resumed. Food has been dispensed and Punky is doing his happy dance. Perhaps it is too much to expect Er Indoors to prance when she gets her tea, but it's something to aim for.

El P.