Tag: Challenge

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 91

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…

20161008_135125_001

This is Chester.

We’re having an interesting time in the quest for self-isolation.

It seems he doesn’t like the idea that we are still going out, and coming back, potentially bringing the virus back.

This, of course, despite the fact that there are no confirmed cases of the virus attacking cats.

That doesn’t mean that Chester might be the first cat that does.

Out of curiosity, and perhaps against my better judgment, I have to ask what his reasoning is.

Old age, he says.  If you are telling me the truth then I’m about 18 cat years old, which means it’s about 126 of your years.

I can see where this is going.  It’s my fault because I’ve left the running count of Coronavirus patients worldwide on one of my computer screens.

As of this morning, there are 393,000 cases worldwide.  He was sitting next to me when I  was looking at the statistical data on the various ages and pre-existing conditions.

For him, apparently, there was only one statistic that mattered.  Anyone over 90 in human years had little chance of surviving.

I reiterate the virus doesn’t attack cats.

I also tell him that I have no intention of getting the virus.  But it raises a point I hadn’t considered.

Going out anywhere always has a risk, whether to the supermarket or the pharmacy which are basically the only places I go.  Then there is the situation of my wife, who is still working and has to go to work.  That is a bigger risk considering one of the staff will be coming back from overseas.

How successful the self-isolation rule is, and whether everyone complies, is a matter of conjecture, and one has to wonder if 14 days in isolation is long enough.

Chester has raised a legitimate point, not necessarily in relation to himself.

Perhaps he might be worried about us.

And if that is the case, will the specter of this virus finally become the catalyst for a change in the relationship between cats and people, where they might realize we are more important to them than they currently believe.

Let’s see what happens.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 90

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…

20160922_161958_001

This is Chester.

He’s not looking forward to being in quarantine.

Yes, he’s been keeping up with the latest developments regarding the Coronavirus, but like many, he doesn’t seem to think it will affect him.

After all, he says smugly, there hadn’t been one recorded instance of a cat getting the Coronavirus.

Of course, he’s right, but I still search for a searing reply.

That may be, but what if they’re not reporting cat infections so as not to alarm the cat population?

Aha, got him with that one.  He ponders that for a moment or two.  I decided to add fuel to the fire.

Apparently, dogs can contract the virus, but after reporting one, there hadn’t been any more.  What if they’re not telling anyone that more dogs have contracted the virus so owners and pets don’t get alarmed.

A reply quick as a flash, Dogs get everything that’s going around.  We cats are more resilient.

Until you get cat flu.  Yes, my nana’s cat got cat flu and it killed him in 2 days.  This virus is a much deadlier form of flu.

A suitable look of concern crossed his face.

Maybe I’ll stay indoors for the duration.  It’s not as if you’re going to let me roam the streets any time soon.

Maybe I will, I say.  Perhaps it is time I started letting you out from time to time.

A shake of the head.

We’ll revisit this when the crisis has passed, he says getting up and walking off, tail flicking in annoyance.

One to me, none to him.  Yes!!!

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 90

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…

20160922_161958_001

This is Chester.

He’s not looking forward to being in quarantine.

Yes, he’s been keeping up with the latest developments regarding the Coronavirus, but like many, he doesn’t seem to think it will affect him.

After all, he says smugly, there hadn’t been one recorded instance of a cat getting the Coronavirus.

Of course, he’s right, but I still search for a searing reply.

That may be, but what if they’re not reporting cat infections so as not to alarm the cat population?

Aha, got him with that one.  He ponders that for a moment or two.  I decided to add fuel to the fire.

Apparently, dogs can contract the virus, but after reporting one, there hadn’t been any more.  What if they’re not telling anyone that more dogs have contracted the virus so owners and pets don’t get alarmed.

A reply quick as a flash, Dogs get everything that’s going around.  We cats are more resilient.

Until you get cat flu.  Yes, my nana’s cat got cat flu and it killed him in 2 days.  This virus is a much deadlier form of flu.

A suitable look of concern crossed his face.

Maybe I’ll stay indoors for the duration.  It’s not as if you’re going to let me roam the streets any time soon.

Maybe I will, I say.  Perhaps it is time I started letting you out from time to time.

A shake of the head.

We’ll revisit this when the crisis has passed, he says getting up and walking off, tail flicking in annoyance.

One to me, none to him.  Yes!!!

Being unwell in the time of a pandemic

It’s a rather interesting situation to get unwell in a pandemic, and you have to go to a hospital for medical assistance for something other than being a victim of the virus.

First of all, what we found was that before you could gain access to the hospital’s emergency department, you were quizzed on the potential for having the virus.  Displaying any symptoms will get you tested.

This gives those going into the hospital a sense of relief that there will be very little chance of contracting it in the waiting room.

Second of all, the waiting room, for the first time I’ve been there, was just about empty.  I’ve been coming to this hospital for many, many, years and not once had there been less than 20 people, and quite often, a lot more.  Any hour of the day or night.

This meant we had a better chance of seeing a doctor quickly.

Or perhaps not.

When we arrived there was about 6 or 7 ahead of us.  A half-hour later, there’s now about 20 and a line forming at reception.  There’s a steady increase in the numbers in the waiting room.

After about an hour we are called in.

It’s a preliminary interview where the symptoms are discussed, and the doctor attempts to match a malady to the symptoms.  There doesn’t seem to be anything to indicate what she has is life-threatening, but…

After a cursory listen to what’s going on in the chest region, the doctor decided on a blood test, an x-ray and an ECG.  She thought she heard an anomaly in the heartbeat but wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Blood taken, we are moved to one of the beds in Emergency to have her heart monitored, and this takes about ten to fifteen minutes.  Then it’s back to the waiting area

Another half-hour before she is taken away for the X-ray.  That takes another fifteen minutes.  From there it’s a waiting game.

What is evident today as distinct from other times I have been in the Emergency department is firstly the lack of people, movement, and noise.  The is, if anything, a surreal silence, and total lack of what might be previously described as controlled panic.

There’s a sense of purpose all around.  There were four of us waiting.  Usually, it was overflowing.  I get the impression unless there was an essential reason to be at the hospital, you were quickly dealt with and moved on.

Only one of the five or six beds has a waiting patient, whereas other times they would be full of family members spilling out into the passageways.

There was no one.  The one that had a patient and one visitor was moved on very quickly.

It seemed like they were on a war footing and you can feel it.  Another week I suspect it is going to be a pandemonium of a different sort, and I hope I don’t get to see it or be part of It

Another hour and the doctor has all the results.  Nothing.  She cannot definitively show what is wrong other than it was not life-threatening.  If it’s still prevalent in five days, a GP was the first point of call.

From there, our visit was over.

There were still a lot of people in the waiting room, but in the several hours we were inside the inner sanctum, there were no new admissions.

Again on the way out we passed the Covid-19 testing station, and all was calm.  The only change was the person on the other side desk.

I’m sure what I was witnessing was the calm before the storm.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 89

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…

20160921_071506

This is Chester.  We have been discussing the possibility of being stuck in the house for anything from 14 days to 10 months.

Yes, the Coronavirus is finally arriving in Australia, and though it is slow to catch on, we are being warned that it could get a lot worse, very quickly.

Chester has suggested we barricade the doors and windows.

Alas, I tell him, this is not the same as the American cowboys fending off an Indian attack.  No circling the wagons, and definitely no John Wayne to ride in and save the day.

Too many westerns on Fox.  I keep forgetting Chester has mastered the art of turning the TV on and changing channels on the Foxtel remote.

I also tell him that the virus is not only airborne, spread by those who cough or sneeze, but also by touch, like shaking hands, and hugging.

At that, Chester takes a good three, four steps back away from me.  So, he challenges me, what are the options.

Well, firstly cats may not get the virus.  Only one dog, as far as I know, had got it.  You, I tell him, do not need to worry.

As for the humans, well, we are in trouble if it comes.

We will be staying in, in some sort of forced quarantine, trying to avoid the rest of the world until it goes away,

So, he says, that means you have enough cat food and litter, the proper one?

I shake my head like he does when he’s annoyed.

Well, if it happens, I’m sure we’ll find out.  Besides, I add, you need to lose a kilo or two.

Being unwell in the time of a pandemic

It’s a rather interesting situation to get unwell in a pandemic, and you have to go to a hospital for medical assistance for something other than being a victim of the virus.

First of all, what we found was that before you could gain access to the hospital’s emergency department, you were quizzed on the potential for having the virus.  Displaying any symptoms will get you tested.

This gives those going into the hospital a sense of relief that there will be very little chance of contracting it in the waiting room.

Second of all, the waiting room, for the first time I’ve been there, was just about empty.  I’ve been coming to this hospital for many, many, years and not once had there been less than 20 people, and quite often, a lot more.  Any hour of the day or night.

This meant we had a better chance of seeing a doctor quickly.

Or perhaps not.

When we arrived there was about 6 or 7 ahead of us.  A half-hour later, there’s now about 20 and a line forming at reception.  There’s a steady increase in the numbers in the waiting room.

After about an hour we are called in.

It’s a preliminary interview where the symptoms are discussed, and the doctor attempts to match a malady to the symptoms.  There doesn’t seem to be anything to indicate what she has is life-threatening, but…

After a cursory listen to what’s going on in the chest region, the doctor decided on a blood test, an x-ray and an ECG.  She thought she heard an anomaly in the heartbeat but wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Blood taken, we are moved to one of the beds in Emergency to have her heart monitored, and this takes about ten to fifteen minutes.  Then it’s back to the waiting area

Another half-hour before she is taken away for the X-ray.  That takes another fifteen minutes.  From there it’s a waiting game.

What is evident today as distinct from other times I have been in the Emergency department is firstly the lack of people, movement, and noise.  The is, if anything, a surreal silence, and total lack of what might be previously described as controlled panic.

There’s a sense of purpose all around.  There were four of us waiting.  Usually, it was overflowing.  I get the impression unless there was an essential reason to be at the hospital, you were quickly dealt with and moved on.

Only one of the five or six beds has a waiting patient, whereas other times they would be full of family members spilling out into the passageways.

There was no one.  The one that had a patient and one visitor was moved on very quickly.

It seemed like they were on a war footing and you can feel it.  Another week I suspect it is going to be a pandemonium of a different sort, and I hope I don’t get to see it or be part of It

Another hour and the doctor has all the results.  Nothing.  She cannot definitively show what is wrong other than it was not life-threatening.  If it’s still prevalent in five days, a GP was the first point of call.

From there, our visit was over.

There were still a lot of people in the waiting room, but in the several hours we were inside the inner sanctum, there were no new admissions.

Again on the way out we passed the Covid-19 testing station, and all was calm.  The only change was the person on the other side desk.

I’m sure what I was witnessing was the calm before the storm.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 89

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…

20160921_071506

This is Chester.  We have been discussing the possibility of being stuck in the house for anything from 14 days to 10 months.

Yes, the Coronavirus is finally arriving in Australia, and though it is slow to catch on, we are being warned that it could get a lot worse, very quickly.

Chester has suggested we barricade the doors and windows.

Alas, I tell him, this is not the same as the American cowboys fending off an Indian attack.  No circling the wagons, and definitely no John Wayne to ride in and save the day.

Too many westerns on Fox.  I keep forgetting Chester has mastered the art of turning the TV on and changing channels on the Foxtel remote.

I also tell him that the virus is not only airborne, spread by those who cough or sneeze, but also by touch, like shaking hands, and hugging.

At that, Chester takes a good three, four steps back away from me.  So, he challenges me, what are the options.

Well, firstly cats may not get the virus.  Only one dog, as far as I know, had got it.  You, I tell him, do not need to worry.

As for the humans, well, we are in trouble if it comes.

We will be staying in, in some sort of forced quarantine, trying to avoid the rest of the world until it goes away,

So, he says, that means you have enough cat food and litter, the proper one?

I shake my head like he does when he’s annoyed.

Well, if it happens, I’m sure we’ll find out.  Besides, I add, you need to lose a kilo or two.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 88

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…

20160909_062838-2

This is Chester.  He had reminded me that it is Dr. Seuss’s birthday

Or perhaps that of the Cat in the Hat.

Chester told me once he auditioned for the role of Cat in the Hat, but he couldn’t get the hat to sit right.

A stitch-up, really, he added.  There was this fat cat, and he told everyone the role was his.

Period.

So, I had to ask, did he get the role?

No.  You’ve seen the Cat in the Hat, haven’t you?  Nothing like him.

So, other than trying to intimidate the competition, what was so scary about him?

Oh, I wasn’t scared or anything like that.  I just didn’t want to make a scene in front of the ladies.

I take a minute, trying to equate the cat in front of me, and that of the Cat in the Hat.

No resemblance at all.

And as for the scaredy-cat part, I decide not to remind him of his all-conquering fear of the grandchildren.

I’ll just wait until the next time they visit…

In less than two hours.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 88

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…

20160909_062838-2

This is Chester.  He had reminded me that it is Dr. Seuss’s birthday

Or perhaps that of the Cat in the Hat.

Chester told me once he auditioned for the role of Cat in the Hat, but he couldn’t get the hat to sit right.

A stitch-up, really, he added.  There was this fat cat, and he told everyone the role was his.

Period.

So, I had to ask, did he get the role?

No.  You’ve seen the Cat in the Hat, haven’t you?  Nothing like him.

So, other than trying to intimidate the competition, what was so scary about him?

Oh, I wasn’t scared or anything like that.  I just didn’t want to make a scene in front of the ladies.

I take a minute, trying to equate the cat in front of me, and that of the Cat in the Hat.

No resemblance at all.

And as for the scaredy-cat part, I decide not to remind him of his all-conquering fear of the grandchildren.

I’ll just wait until the next time they visit…

In less than two hours.

Memories of the conversations with my cat – 87

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…

20160903_163858

This is Chester.  He was looking very benign before he left.

Now I can’t find him.

Anywhere.

He’s in none of the usual hiding spots.

He’s not hiding under any of the beds.

He’s not hiding in any of the cupboards.

I’m worried.

 

He’s planning something.  It might be my demise.  I’m still trying to figure out what he could gain from my death.  Not having to listen to me reading chapters of my books?

That, to him, might be a blessing.

I found a magazine on the floor open at an article entitled, ‘Ways to check if your spouse is trying to kill you’.

It’s got me doubly worried now.

I saw him on the kitchen bench near my coffee cup.

How hard could it be for him to dip his paw into some poison or other and then put it in my coffee cup?

That expressionless expression gives him away.

It’s what he’s not saying that’s telling me everything.

Behind that bland face, there’s the heart of a plotter, plotting something bigger than blowing up parliament by Guy Faulks.

I’m going to keep a very close eye on him.  Very, very close.

When I find where he’s hiding.