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Hello everyone, it’s been awhile since I last put paw to Mum’s keyboard.  I’ve been busy taking care of Mum while she lies on the sofa.  Gibbs helps as well, sometimes, but it’s mainly me while Gibbs hangs out with the neighbouring cats in the garden.  They chat about stuff and have a laugh, then they’ll all go to sleep on the various chairs and surfaces Mum has dotted about in the garden.

Anyway, back in June I had another birthday so I’m reliably informed.  I’ve mentioned several times before on these pages that cats don’t ‘do’ birthdays.  It’s a thing that humans seem to be obsessed with and our Mum is no exception.  She makes a huge fuss of not only family members, friends, and other people’s birthdays, but ours as well. Everything is marked on something called a calendar which hangs on the dining room wall. She looks at this every day to make sure she knows what’s happening.  And given her illness at the moment, half the time she doesn’t know what’s happening, if it’s already happened or if it’s about to happen.  Never a dull moment in the Lazypaws Guest House for Discerning Felines, I can tell you.

So you want a number, don’t you? Well, I am now something called ‘ten years old.’ Apparently, I first came to Mum’s back garden some eight or so years ago, when Ollie and Sam were still here.  When she took to me to see Kevin, our vet, to see if I was microchipped (I wasn’t) Kevin said I was probably about two years old. I hadn’t been neutered either, something Kevin remedied quite swiftly.  For a couple of years it was just Mum and me, sitting on the sofa, watching NCIS and other things on the television.

Then trouble turned up.  I mean Gibbs.  He too, was probably about two years old and he’s now about seven.  We are almost identical, so people are always saying to Mum, so there’s every possibility that we’re brothers from different litters.  Gibbs wasn’t microchipped or neutered either – something that Kevin sorted out fairly quickly as well.

We have a good life here.  As you all know from my other posts, I’m not a very fun cat.  I don’t play and if I do, it’s for about three seconds and then I’ve had enough.  Gibbs is more sociable than I am and he more than makes up for my lack of enthusiasm on all things festive.

One thing we’re both agreed on, though.  We were both incredibly lucky to pitch up on Mum’s decking all those years ago and we’re having a much better life than our previous ones.  Even though Mum isn’t all that well at the moment, she still gets our meals and changes our water bowls every day.  She might lie on the sofa at times, with her eyes closed, but I’ll snuggle up to her, wriggle in between her Mum bumps, and we spoon together.  There’s nothing nicer.   

Till the next time,

Love Casey