What's happened to the weather???? We woke up this morning to howling wind and lashing rain...such a contrast to recently it was a bit of a shock. Needless to say it was so bad that we didn't feel remotely inspired to venture out at all - C got on with varnishing the door again while I did some chores. We did have to do the Tesco run though, which once again wasn't too bad nor too expensive for a change!! There is always a feeling of stocking up and battening down the hatches when the weather's bad.
I think we've both been sensing a bit of a downer coming on as today was the last day of his two weeks off treatment for the cancer. He's been so well since the cycle ended that it's difficult in a way to contemplate putting him in that position again - he's had more energy, been less tired in the evening, been much much more positive and outgoing, eaten well, laughed more and not looked or acted like someone who to all intents and purposes is seriously ill. He's been just like C before the cancer. Even Romilly commented that he's singing in the morning again, which used to annoy both of us back then, but now it makes us smile as we know he feels better. So contemplating this coming to an end again, albeit hopefully temporarily, is a daunting prospect because we've seen the contrast now, we've been lulled into a false sense of reality and have been able to forget that he has cancer, and that it's serious, and that he has a long way to go. We'd forgotten, not just pretended, but actually forgotten about the cancer, so realising that tomorrow we see the oncologist again, and get the next batch of WMD, and start the treatment again brings it all back to earth with an almighty, unwelcome thump.
I was due to take Fleur (the cat) to the vet today for the second part of her inoculations booster - Romilly had taken her two weeks ago for the first bit, but as she was at work this afternoon this task fell to me once again. And task it was...that cat KNOWS what it means when the pet carrier comes out, and nice as I try to make it inside, all cosy and like a hideyhole, she refuses to go anywhere near it. Thankfully she was indoors anyway due to the bad weather, but once you try and maneouvre her into that carrier it's the devil's own job to keep hold of her! I was reminded of that poem about a cat owner trying to give the cat some tablets; me trying to get Fleur into the carrier was just like that. Imagine if you will - I am dressed for the wet weather (or as I now know, in my manic cat-handling gear - that's the cat who's manic, not me) in full length waxed coat and fleece gloves, with a writhing feline tucked under one arm. I pop her into the carrier and close the door thinking I have her contained; then take my hand away, realise I haven't closed the door properly, and realise this too late while I watch her make a swift exit and shoot off upstairs. Off I go in my full length wax coat (which makes a weird noise when I move and which Fleur has not seen before) to retrieve her, she sees me coming, turns tail and heads into the back room - I enter, shut the door to contain her, grab her once again (by which time she is now making some worryingly frightening growly noises and twitching her tail while looking right at me with HUGE eyes). Off downstairs again, call C to hold the carrier still while I try and push her into it. Have you ever tried to push a cat into a carrier when they don't want to go there? It's a bit like, hmmm, pushing jelly upwards through a sieve; it doesn't happen. Every time I got closer to the carrier, Fleur wriggled backwards under my right arm, leaving my left hand holding her two front paws and very little else. I grab her again, hold her against my front, and try to get her head into the carrier, which she twists around under my right arm again, while I then try to push her in bottom first. And she does a reverse starfish impression. At this point C and I realise that she is not going to go into the carrier, that I am not going to get her to the vet, and am going to have to confess this to the receptionist. Which I do, very apologetically, whilst removing what had been my full length wax coat and fleece gloves, and which now appear to be a fur coat and gloves in the making. Nice.
So we didn't go out today. I lit the fire at about 4pm, lit the candles and put the lights on - it was almost dark, still raining, and frankly we were in the best place!
The parcel arrived from Hawkin's Bazaar, so I spent the evening wrapping Christmas presents while C watched the football on TV. Rom came home from working at Argos, and thawed her wet feet in front of the fire. A very peaceful end to a fairly horrible day.
I love your description of getting Fleur into the cat basket - you describe it so well. They turn into slippery eels with fur and teeth when the cat basket comes out - unless they are really unwell, then they just go in meek as a lamb.
ReplyDeleteSpookily enough - getting them out the other end at the vets iis just as difficult.
Big tip - scruff of the neck hold tends to make them a little more manageable. Years of practice and 10 cats to boot has taught me a lot. xx