Getting stronger and settling into life at Tom Cat Towers, I started to get into the routine of owning a human and am now starting to put a bit of weight on.
My human still insists on brushing me, despite me sharpening my teeth on her exposed flesh. I wasn’t groomed when out in the wild as a feral cat, so I really don’t see the point.
I have acquired two things which I never had before:-
A collar, the human thought that would be a struggle to put on me and keep it on. However, I quite liked the pink sparkly thing, it had my name on one side and my human’s address and telephone number, I’ve never owned a bit of bling before. She was concerned if I wondered off someone may be shocked by my shaved appearance and the fact that I wobble so much so it had my new name on it and details of my problems so other people wouldn’t be too shocked when they see me.
I also am the proud owner of a certificate. As a pedigree golden exotic Persian I think I had a birth certificate many years ago, but cannot put my paw on it now. Today I got my first vaccination certificate. Saint Ben of Park Street thought I was strong enough to be given the first of my injections. I was very brave considering how tiny I am and how huge the syringe was!
The big grey cat that lives in the human’s bedroom – Dumpty - wasn’t very happy about my visit to Saint Ben. She views him as per own personal surgeon, and heart throb, so I got quite a sniff of disdain when I padded into her bedroom smelling of the vet’s.
Today, wearing my glittery collar I was allowed outside into the garden. The big ginger annoyance came too. I explored the catnip bushes, with the ginger wuss up my backside as I wandered round. I discovered an ant’s nest so stopped to Hoover a few up, never one to walk by or refuse a free snack. Then I lay down on the warm concrete and soaked up the wonderful sunshine, only to have my personal moment ruined by the wuss as he came sniffing round my ears to see if I was alright.
I had had enough. I stood up and rounded on him. I do not need a carer; I have survived in the wild on my own. Just because I am brain damaged and physically disabled doesn’t mean he has to follow me round in case I fall over, I don’t need escorting to the grit tray, and I don’t need a helping paw when I tuck into a dish of chopped tigers. So it all came to a head as I gave him a thoroughly good duffing up. I didn’t unsheathe my claws, but I had to make sure he got the message; leave me alone.
Needless to say the message didn’t sink in as he snuggled up to me on my sheepskin rug and drooled on my rug as he purred rather noisily at me.
Clearly this cat is more stupid that I first realised
My responsibilities have been upgraded.
I am now Dippi’s minder and I escort her as she explores the gardens of Tom Cat Towers. She has a collar with her details put on her, and off we go! She does have some disgusting habits like eating ants, which are there just to bat around and play with. There is too much food on offer here to want to eat insects.
At one point she keeled over again and stayed there. I was quite concerned and rushed over, treading on her tail as I tried to sniff her ears, see if she was still alive. She just gave me a couple of lighthearted jokey pats on the nose. I realise how grateful she is for my attention.
I feel quite fulfilled as I followed her back into the house.