Something was up with Willow this morning.
She was sitting on a tree by the fire, where she often perches. So why think something was wrong?
She had been quite keen for breakfast.
Perhaps it’s that she has been getting strange twitches.
She suddenly flinches, as if something has stung her and she races off to escape it.
Willow has longish hair and is not keen on being examined, but her back doesn’t seem sensitive.
So maybe I am just vaguely worried about her.
But this morning I felt she was out of sorts.
She seemed “out of focus”!
How could one possibly know?
After pottering around for a bit outside, I came in and sat down just in time to hear the familiar sound of a cat being sick.
So I raced to the scene to see if it was Willow.
And was very relieved to witness the production of a large hairball.
That’s all it was.
Having a large lump of hair stuck in one’s gullet could certainly make you bilious.
Grant always says the cats need to eat grass and he often brings some inside for the cats that don’t attend the morning stroll.
Then I spend the rest of the day mopping up the regurgitated bits.
Though I’ll mop up vomited grass any day in preference to regurgitated rodent!
Lily is one of our keenest walkers.
If she’s not asleep, she’s usually at a window.
She and Toby are the most adventurous. This morning, Lily went down to the field in the foreground here, racing from one end all the way to the other, then back up the slope in the distance.
For the sheer joy of being able to.
It makes me nervous and I don’t care for the passengers they sometimes pick up (Toby had 3 ticks aboard today).
But how can I deny them such pleasure?
They only go out “supervised” and only 6 of them.
Toby is a wanderer, but he often favours going up the hill where he can look at chickens and sheep.
He apparently turns his ears off at such times, so our calls are unanswered.
In his own time, he comes sauntering nonchalantly home like some sort of feline runway model.
Where he knows Grant will be in attendance to offer tickles when he throws himself at the man’s feet.
Animals certainly run our lives and not vice versa:
“I’ve got my eye on that bit of carrot.”
“Just getting up the courage…”
“Thanks. There will be more, of course?”
“Can’t you get this to grow any faster?”
“Those nice things you planted for us last year.”
“What do you mean, ‘not for us’?”
Meanwhile Swarm are using the driveway for dirt-bathing.
This morning was the re-scheduled vet visit.
(I was exonerated. The system failed!)
Lily, Lucy, Sasha and Penny have been declared fit and immune.
Barring unforeseeable occurrences.