This is Chester. He’s feeling poorly today.
When I used this expression, he looked at me quizzically, which is not bad for a cat with a constant poker face.
Where did you get that from?
It’s a favourite expression of my mother’s when she wasn’t feeling very well. She had another, ‘not feeling elegant’ today.
It stops and makes me wonder where these expressions come from, and I suspect, because my mother’s mother was of German descent, that it was one of those translation to English things.
Chester seems disinterested. I’m beginning to think there may be something wrong with him because he’s not his usual sardonic self.
Perhaps, I say, it’s time to go to the vet, get checked out. You’re not getting any younger.
His head pops up at the mention of the vet. He knows what this means. The cat basket.
He leaps up with newfound energy and heads for the door.
I get out of my chair to follow, and he’s gone, moving quickly up the passage to one of his hiding spots.
Maybe he’s not that bad. I’ll monitor the situation.
“You’re safe,” I yell out. “For now.”