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 sneezed on me! My face is covered in cat snot!"

The cat was promptly banished to cuddle Coventry. No more snuggles on the bed and lap time only if the sneeze-prone end was pointed the other way.

Sneeze in your face? Me? Never!

In an act that reeked of feline retribution the cat vomited vigorously on the hall runner where unwary feet would take their first morning steps. He demanded food and brushing in lieu of cuddles and lap time. 

Six months ago he liked vigorous brushing and leaned his robust weight into the brush. Now his joints were stiff and he sported unseemly bald patches where his owners had cut off clumps of matted fur. I had to brush him gently lest I inadvertently knock him off his perch, and the sharp points of his backbone stood out under the fur.

Living his best chair cushion life.

We fed him little and often. This met with his approval although I shut the door in his face at 4am  when he tried to start a conversation about the possibility of adding Early First Breakfast to the menu.

On notice to stay alive until his owners returned, he lies out in the sun every day, doing his best dead cat impersonation.

I go out and poke him every so often.

He's woken up every time. 

So far, so good.