Friends

13 September 2012

Feline Capers, part 4

Characters:

There’s me, Lee, a lady cat. I’m the one telling the story.
Mom and dad, my human parents.
Tom and Sukie, my best feline friends.
Woof, a visiting Persian kitten with a daft name.


CAT SHOW? NO THANKS!

Mom bought me some new toys yesterday, a small giraffe and a highly coloured snake. I don’t go a bundle on the snake because it has no extra bits to chew but the giraffe is soft enough to take to bed. Funnily enough I seem to fall asleep quicker when I have a new cuddly toy as well as my earless mouse.  I play with it for a while, and have a bit of a chew on an ear, if it has one, and then I feel myself drifting off. Dad said I’m spoiled rotten. What do you think?

Well, last night, I had a deep sleep which I can only think was induced by the new giraffe’s presence. Not a thing disturbed me until I woke to hear mom going on about a cat show. I’d spent hours dreaming of victoriously catching rodents and now it looked like I was entering a really bad nightmare. I pricked my ears up, heard something about a charity fete. So much for feeling happy! Mom is always raising money for something, and the show might be a good way to doing it, but she’s not getting me there. I had enough the last time. All that grooming and pampering isn’t for me. And then, horrors above horrors, I heard another word. Bath. That did it. When she wasn’t looking I slunk out, heading for the open kitchen door.

Once in the garden I belted towards the plum tree. She’d never find me up there, and there I would stay until the heat was off. I’ve never circumnavigated the pond so fast, though why I went round twice I’ll never know. Even so, I reached the forsythia in record time, scooted up the apple tree and jumped across to my private haven. Only I missed my aim. The forepaws made it to the big bough but I couldn’t get a grip with the hind legs. I struggled to swing them into position but it was no good. For some reason I had fleeting visions of the male chaffinch trying to get into the bird feeder; our positions were identical. He failed as well. I remember screeching a few times as the claws gave up the ghost. Down I crashed, hitting the dirt deck with a terrific thud, twigs and leaves tumbling with me. Even the birds scarpered. It struck me then that I was too old for climbing trees. 

I’m not sure how mom knew where I was but I’m glad she found me. The pain in my back leg was excruciating. Honestly, I whimpered like a human while she bellowed into the telephone. Even in my state of shock I thought it was a strange thing to do. I mean, the telephone hadn’t done anything to upset her. And she was truly upset. Tears rolled down her face; she had to keep dabbing them with a tissue. You’d think she was the one with a painful leg. Humans are comical at times.

The journey to the vets was fast. Dad drove while mom nursed me on her lap. She’d wrapped me in a patchwork blanket and kept stroking me between the ears. I would have enjoyed it but for the pain in the leg. I whimpered a lot to remind her that I was in agony and that made her cry even more.

When we got there a nurse took me from mom, placed me on the cold steel table and started to examine me. Then Mr Vet came in, had a quiet conversation with the nurse before uttering the word operation. It meant nothing to me but I sensed that it was something unpleasant. It was bad enough having to endure the smell in that place, a smell that would have put me off having treatment at all if I wasn’t in so much pain. Mom was in a bad way, sobbing on dad’s shoulder while he tried to console her with words like she’ll be fine and the operation will soon be over. Me, I wasn’t so sure. I’ve heard of cat’s going in there and never coming out.

When the needle went in I felt the hatred rising and decided to show the nurse how I felt. It was just a little nip but she didn’t half squeal. I didn’t care; it made me feel a bit better.

Next thing I knew I was lying on a blanket in a cot, with my leg wrapped in something white. Me... in a cot.  I knew I’d never live that down. I admit I felt better, the leg was sore but not as painful. Mom was there, uttering words I didn’t understand. Diddums den meant nothing to me but from the look on her face I knew I wasn’t in trouble. The fall from the plum tree was like a distant memory. I tried to remember every detail though, just so I could brag about the experience to Tom and Sukie.

After a short stay at Mr Vet’s place, I was taken home. It was good to get back to mom and dad, and my giraffe, the earless mouse, and the grey elephant, and all the other toys that live in a box next to my bed. Even the snake looked good.  I licked his skin a few times to show there were no hard feelings, after all it wasn’t his fault he’d been bought to share the life of a cat.

Needless to say it was a fair while before I was able to get out into the wide world again and since there was no further mention of a cat show I felt secure.  I’d have to embellish the incident when I told Tom and Sukie about it; it wouldn’t do to be thought of as a coward by my best friends.

Must be off now, I’ve a bit more mental mouse hunting to do.

Meow!

14 comments:

Jinksy said...

Mental mouse hunting? I could do that! LOL

Brian Miller said...

the falling out of the tree got me a bit...my older cat is starting to get tot he point that getting around is hard to do and this bit reminded me of her...gotta wonder too what animals think of the vet...

Ron said...

Valerie, the way in which you described Lee falling out of the tree was so crystal clear that I could see and hear it happening.

You really had me going with feeling worried about what had happened to her and the she was going to be okay when you mentioned the operation.

Whew...glad all went well!

I'm really enjoying this story. You weave the most charming humor throughout...

"Even in my state of shock I thought it was a strange thing to do. I mean, the telephone hadn’t done anything to upset her."

How funny!

Looking foreword to the next chapter!

Happy Thursday, dear lady!

X

Valerie said...

So could I, Jinksy :O)

Brian, it's hard to see our animals age. My dogs and cat didn't like the vet at all, I lightened it for the sake of the story. Look after your elderly moggy.

Ron, I tried to make it realistic. Methinks I succeeded ;o}

Valerie said...

Pat (http://pat-aviewfromtheedge.blogspot.co.uk/)
left a new comment on your post "Feline Capers, part 4":

Val - I've so enjoyed this story! I went back and read all the chapters. I've missed all of them so I needed to catch up! I love how you've made all the cat characters so humanistic. Fun story!

(Sorry Pat, I accidentally deleted your comment)

Montanagirl said...

I agree with Ron: I could clearly picture Lee falling out of that tree.

faye said...

a wonderful cat caper ..
love the idea of mental mouse hunting.

Have a great weekend.!!

HermanTurnip said...

"I heard another word. Bath."

Heh...our cat is the same way, but her trigger word is "shower" :-)

"Me... in a cot. I knew I’d never live that down."

Awesome! I can totally picture Lee in this compromising position.

This series is getting better and better, and is a fantastic read! Lovin' it...

Valerie said...

Herman, thank you. I wonder why it is that cats so hate the water. Glad you are enjoying the cat tales.

Lea said...

It is so fun to read! Though my jaws dropped when Lee fell off the tree, humor all throughout the post kept me smiling.

"I licked his skin to show there were no hard feelings..."

So funny! :)

Star said...

Lovely story. Poor puss.

Mr. Shife said...

As usual you have a way with words, and I enjoy the way you do it. Thanks for another delightful tale. Take care, Val.

Ranita Sinha said...

I liked your second part more than the first..than the third better than the second and now the fourth one seems the best..but I know something more exciting is in store for all..waiting anxiously for the next..

Valerie said...

Hi Ranita. I'm so pleased you are enjoying the cat tales. Only another four to go... smiles.