Shut In!

If anyone else had gone through the same thing as me I don’t think they would have survived it. I innocently wandered into a garage to take a peer inside and have a sniff around when, before you could say ‘catnip drops’ the door slammed shut. I am not a stranger to this situation – for some reason it seems to happen quite frequently to me – so I did what I always do and meowed, and meowed and meowed and meowed. Nothing. I waited and waited. Where was Katty when I needed her?? Typical.

I meowed for ages. My throat got really sore and my tummy started growling – someone should have heard that at least! Questions kept going through my head: what if I was shut in here forever? What was I going to have for tea? It was also quite boring because after ten minutes I had surveyed and sniffed all the contents of the garage and so there was nothing new to get into. It got later and later and soon I could see under the door was getting dark – it was night time. This is the time when I am usually hunting and finding my supper in the hedges or lolling around in the lounge and finding my supper in the kitchen. As it got later I imagined Scooby in his nice warm bed, eating his treats (and mine?). Scooby had never been a robust cat like me. I could imagine him whimpering in here scared as a mouse. But no I was different. To conserve energy I decided to curl up in a corner and went to sleep – no human was going to get me out this time - the funny creatures always slept through the night.

I must have slept well it was my stomach that woke me up in the morning eventually. I started scavenging around for some food: a piece of grit on the floor, some engine oil... I licked the ground hoping there was something that my nose had missed. After deliberating for a while about what to do (there's always choices to be made) I figured that I should restart my meowing. I had heard the phone ring then sounds of a human voice – people were around. This time it worked! After less than ten minutes, the door rattled and then opened. I walked out into the sunshine, had a look at my captor and sauntered off. I hope I don’t get locked in anywhere overnight again, looking back I don't know how I survived it!

2004 - 2009: Morgan's 5th birthday!!

My Pawly Paw

What do you think is worse having a hurting paw or going to the vet? I think I would prefer a hurting paw. I definitely didn’t want both of them so where did I go wrong that ended with me hopping round a vet’s room and then a needle in my back? I never told them my paw hurt. I never complained or whined – not once – so why did they grab me and stuff me in that horrible cat carrier?

They started paying a lot of attention to me soon after it started hurting. That amount of attention is usually a bad thing so I tried to run out but they had locked the catflap and were picking me up, looking at my paw, feeling my leg – “get off! get off! get off!…” Eventually after a lot of banging on the cat flap they let me out but when I slinked in later with my mouse even that didn’t pacify them

The vet did her usual prodding and poking – I sat there frightened then they put me on the floor. I tried not to limp too much and thought I could run away – I did try in true Morgan style but they picked me back up and plonked me on the table for inspection. It took me the rest of the evening to get over this unpleasant incident it traumatised me. Then they started doing purr-culier things like locking me in the house and making me eat ham. Well it tasted like ham and smelt like ham but had this weird gooey bit on the top of it. Well I munched it all up whatever it was.

Oh yes, thank you, my paw is a lot better now.

Hop-along -Morgan

Morgan is poorly. Well, not really poorly as such, just hopping along on one foot as he has – we don’t know how – hurt his foot or leg (he is not telling us which). It (whatever it was) happened on Thursday when we were at Tesco, Morgan came through his flap limping quite badly. When we got back we talked about whether to take him to the vet – should we make him go through the trauma of an expedition to his idea of hell or should we leave him to limp? He seemed well enough in himself, so well in fact he presented us with a mouse later that evening, but it was decided not to risk further injury and so after ten minutes of fighting him to get him in the cage and after having to push him in it, we drove him to the vets. Although it wasn’t his idea of a great evening out we thought it would be for the best.

After a long wait with a big friendly dog who seemed to take a shine on Morgan (though the feeling wasn’t reciprocated) it was Morgan’s turn to be examined. Considering it took us ten minutes to get him in the cage he wasn’t very co-operative coming out. The nice vet looked at Morgan and checked his health and temperature (with a thermometer up his bottom so that didn’t go down very well, as you would expect) she also looked at his paw and felt his joint on the leg. To understand the next bit I will have to tell you Morgan’s history: Three weeks after we got Morgan he broke all four bones in his paw (trust me, its best not to ask…) the result: all his four bones in his paw were wired together. As four years and a half have now past his body is rejecting the wire that had now mended his paws. So back to the vets… there sticking out his paw was a piece of shiny metal wire… was this the culprit? To be honest we don’t know for sure but in case it was a jab of antibiotics were given on the scruff of his neck and painkillers were prescribed… So what are we doing now? Morgan is still limping and we will keep our fingers crossed that the painkillers are helping him and easing his discomfort. Maybe it is his wire, or perhaps his strained his muscle in his leg but we hope it will get better for him.

We will keep you posted.

The Story Behind the Picture

Aahhhh, aren’t they sweet – they may look like to brothers enjoying each others company but it couldn’t be further from the truth. A second after this photo was taken Scooby jumped up and off the bed in the biggest huff because Morgan had dared to sneak up onto the bed he was sleeping on. But perhaps it was Scooby who was the nicked Morgan’s bed in the first place. You see it has been Morgan’s adopted bed for weeks. Morgan likes to change his pad every so often to make sure he has the best place nearest to the radiator but not too near as to burn oneself. Also its essential that it is a soft bed - but not to soft as to drown in it. He decided that this week my bed was perfect. If you wanted Morgan you would go in my room expecting to see him curled up on my duvet so I was naturally surprised when it was Scooby occupying the space. But then in came Morgan. He seemed stunned that anybody had the audacity to sit in his space. You could see the cogs working in his brain wondering what he was going to do. After a moments deliberation he thought – oh what the hey, and jumped on it regardless of Scooby’s presence. He actually looked like he would be contented with sharing..
In the meantime I had spied a perfect photo opportunity and grabbed my mobile in unmitigated haste. Scooby turned round for the photo. Click – what a great photo. I actually thought the pair of them might learn to share but it wasn’t to be.
Scooby wasn’t contented. Little more than a second after I took the snap he was up and off, whining a little in the unfairness of it all.
Looks can be deceiving.

My creamy Christmouse and snowy New Year

I hate the snow. It’s so cold on your feet so for the last two days I have been lying on my bed by the radiator trying to keep warm. Scooby has braved it one or twice to hop, skip and jump to our friends for his chicken and fuss but I’ve stayed sleeping all day. I need to anyway to sleep off my Christmouse lunch. No not a mouse or bird, not this year. It was yummy cream – better than a mouse!! I had the cream on Christmouse day when a empty bowl of cream was left behind on the cupboard – the humans said it was empty but it wasn’t though it certainly was empty when I had had done with it. I stuck my head right in the plastic Tupperware containing and got every morsel out though whether it ended up in my tum or on my face is debateable! That coupled with my favourite fish and a chop of chicken made my Christmouse Day and partly makes up for the snow now.