27/11/25 It's All About The Cat
The old cat lay stretched out on the artificial grass in the courtyard, belly up to South Australia's fickle sunshine. He hadn't moved all morning. "I think he's dead, " I said to Roger, and poked him with my toe. He snorted and opened one disapproving eye to glare at me. OK, still alive. We'd cared for this cat intermittently for the past four years and all of a sudden he'd become an old man cat. At the ripe old age of 17, mind you, so nothing to sneeze at in cat years. Living his best doorstop life. "He sneezes quite a bit," his owners informed us blithely as they nipped out the door bound for Africa. "Make sure you give him his medicine." Medicine taken, the cat settled next to Roger on the bed, both of them channelling their inner geriatric. Next minute an explosion of sneezes echoed down the hallway, followed by howls of horror. Roger appeared in the kitchen all ln a rush, franticly washing his glasses in the kitchen sink. "He...