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Denver having a spruce up before visiting the vetIt's been another hungry few weeks.  

The ear healed up nicely, Mum is a dab hand with some moist cotton wool to mop up any unpleasantness. So, I thought I'd be really generous - she doesn't seem to like live mice, so I thought a nice rat (dead, of course), would be a small way to show my appreciation. It turns out that Mum dislikes rats even more than mice (even when they are dead rats) - she really freaked out, stood there shaking a bit before she summoned up the courage to grab (almost) all of the kitchen towel before she could dispose of it. She then phones the emergency Vet number on her mobile and starts wittering on about poison, frothing at the mouth and symptoms! Goodness knows why - I just sat there really puzzled, I do love my Mum a lot, so why doesn't she like the presents I bring her?

(Message to self: squashed seagull doesn't go down well either, especially placed outside the back gate before 6am on a Monday when Mum has to go that way to feed our friends' cat when they are on holiday). 

One good thing is that I seem to have reached what the Nurse called a "plateau" - strange, because I certainly haven't been anywhere near mountains - apparently near where we live there is some stunning moorland, but certainly nothing there that would qualify as a mountain. Mum explained that there is a stage of dieting that humans go through too where no matter how hard you try, you can't shift any more weight, and that is called a "plateau", and I seem to have reached it. So that weekend, I got another pouch! Whoopee!

I went back just before the end of August for my next check, and something seemed different - Mum seemed slightly on edge this time, which was a puzzle, and instead of one of the Nurses, I was seen by a Vet! Very strange - she weighed me as usual (oh no, gained a really small bit sadly), then the nightmare started. She poked and prodded me, looked in my ears and eyes, then forced my mouth open to check my teeth - what the heck was going on? Then a REALLY COLD metal object was placed against my fur and she listened to my heart beating! Yes, Vetty - I am still very much alive and (not) kicking, thank you (I'm too polite to kick as I love my tummy rubbed). 

Then she stuck a flipping needle in my neck! As I got back inside the carry case, I saw the Vet sticking things on a strange card Mum had taken with us - and it suddenly dawned on me what had just happened - it was my annual check-up and "boosters" (not to be confused with all those long things that go up vertically to that ISS thing that is whizzing about above our heads). 

At least I know I am fit and healthy for another year, and - best of all - I don't have to go back for another weight check for 8 weeks now, double the time between weigh ins. 

Stay safe and slim friends!

Denver. 

 

A Cats Prayer

Lead me down all the right paths,
Keep me from fleas, bees, and baths.
Let me in should it storm,
Keep me safe, fed, and warm.

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