As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.
Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.
For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1
These are the memories of our time together…
This is Chester. Did someone use the word ‘vet’ out loud?
It is odd how some animals can recognise some words and remember what activity is attached to it.
Chester knows the word vet, and his memory attaches a great deal of seemingly horrible experience, not the worst of which is being transported in a pet basket.
Yes, we have just tried carrying him, but there is a sixth sense in every cat that tells them when they’re nearing a vet. Within 50 metres of the front door, the hair stands up, the cat starts hissing as he would face off against a formidable opponent.
We only carried him once, never again.
But the histrionics start in the house where we have to mound a search party to find hi, There are innumerable hiding places, and we have to be organised.
Invariably, each time something like this happens, he finds somewhere new to hide. We keep forgetting he can use his paws to open sliding doors, and close them again, a talent he had learned.
We’ve also learned to start looking a half-hour earlier than we used to. The vet is only three minutes away, and we used to leave it to the last minute, but being late for the appointment happens only once.
Vets are worse than doctors when you miss appointments. PErhaps Chester knows this and tries to use it to his advantage. It no longer works.
Then, once we find him, the next exercise is to get him into the basket. I’ve never seen so many tricks on how not to let the humans put him in it.
But, over time, we’ve learned, and sometimes it’s easy, others, I have the scars to prove it.
Then, once we get to the vet, it’ss a completely different cat, not Chester, but some other cat disguised as him. Chester has never given the vet an ounce of trouble.
Perhaps we should become vets.
Chester is fine, just a little off-colour perhaps from something he ate. Not all pet food is agreeable, and we’ve been trying to get his to have something different. I even specially cook fish for him, and maybe that was the problem.
What is off-putting is the ease in which he goes back into the basket for the vet.
But all is well, and he will be glad to get out…