Lathany

Just back from three nights in Cambridge.



We got to meet Myrtle, the new cat / kitten.

Ever since we got Reeve, Dom has been responsible for his vet trips, essentially annual. It made sense as Dom was self-employed and worked from home. However, now he's employed I'm the one with the shorter, more flexible hours. So, from this year, I agreed to take him. Better yet, Beatrice was around and would come along.

Reeve never liked his annual MOT. He didn't like the injections, nor being weighed and he sometimes had the indignity of a thermometer up the bum. But it was a one-off, right?

We went off with our puss three weeks ago. I found the place and drove in without wanging the car (the drive is narrow). We took him in and waited. Unfortunately, this wasn't going to be a smooth trip. He was underweight, so the vet wanted to take a blood test for his thyroid. However, Reeve Was Not Up For This. She called in the receptionist and three of us wrestled him (Bea wisely backed out) and failed to get a good sample on both shaved paws. At this point we had a very upset animal, so we were packed off with a tranquiliser pill and an appointment for two days later.

We went back, with a much more docile animal and handed him over. This time she had another vet to help and Bea and I were sent out for a walk. Twenty minutes later we returned and it was done, but apparently he was "wriggly".

A phone call that afternoon confirmed that the poor puss did have a thyroid issue, so I went back the following day, alone, and collected his medicine.

Today was the three-week follow-up appointment. Reeve was more perky and, having explained the appointment needs to the receptionist on the phone ("I remember him!" she said immediately) there was an assistant. Bea and I were sent out and they managed to get a blood sample fairly quickly.

This afternoon's call was confirmation that he has improved but needs to put on more weight so his dose is upped to three times a day (which, incidentally, he also doesn't like, but doesn't involve the cat spaceship).

I'm pretty certain all the yelling from him in the car on the way home was a mixture of swear words and a request to get Dom back.

A rare, but welcome, visit from Reeve this evening.



And now I have fur on my keyboard.

We've spent the weekend in Bristol - which could arguably rival Milton Keynes for its roundabouts. It was a lovely weekend and we did pretty well with the weather. Each day started with heavy rain, but it disappeared quickly.

Thursday we drove down in the afternoon and met Emma for a late afternoon walk. In the evening Dom, Ryan and I had dinner at a nearby pub - The Golden Heart.

Friday was Wales - Ceiswyn gave us lunch which Icarus begged for. We travelled to see a nearby castle in the afternoon. Friday evening was dinner at the Willy Wicket on Wick Wick roundabout.

Saturday we ended up in south Bristol to see Bernie, Lisa and Max. Also to see a lot of up and down. We had lunch at their local pub and an afternoon walk through the nearby cemetary grounds.



This morning we came home - detouring briefly onto the M3 when some of the M4 was shut.

Reeve gatecrashed a meeting with my manager's manager on Friday. However, she's a cat lover. She told me he was lovely. Reeve preened himself and gave me a look - "See, I'm lovely! You don't appreciate me enough."

However, no-one gets bitten over a Zoom call, so I think I have the more objective viewpoint.

Window 22 was a toy boat.

Today we wrapped presents and I finished the Christmas cake. Dom braved Tescos for the Last Shop Before Christmas (we hope). Reeve slept (mostly).

Last night I dreamt that there was something pressing down heavily on my chest.

Pressure of work? Social anxiety?

I woke to discover that Reeve had curled up on top of me for a nap.

Yesterday at lunchtime I saw Reeve go to the far end of the garden, chase butterflies and generally frolick around like a carefree, happy puss. Then he suddenly remembered this wasn't his image and so he came back in to grump on the front windowsill.

I generally enjoyed my forties. They started well (The Fat Duck) and included plenty of roleplaying, writing, gaming (Secret Worlders!) and cake. Plus an angry cat.

My fifties have started in rather different circumstances, but I'm still promised cake. My presents from Dom were an emerald ring, a book drawn by him, an owl necklace, champagne, fudge, a CD and a multicoloured top. I've also got a copy of Monster Hunter World from Mr Fox. Oh, and I still have the angry cat. Some things don't change.

Today's window was a snowman.

Today's trains were rather tardier than yesterday's trains. Work seemed both quiet and that there was lots on. I can tell it's cold by Reeve's daily interest in a warm lap in the evening.