Liver and wedding presents

Thanks to the website that Dee sent me, I learned a lot about feline anorexia last night. So we went off to get some liver. I have to say I didn’t think he’d eat any, but as we got home my neighbour leaned out of her top window.

‘Flowerpot! Michelle’s just been giving Bussie some biscuits and he’s eaten them!’ she cried. You can see the whole street’s in on Bussie’s eating problem.

I thanked her profusely, grabbed Bussie who’d come to greet me, and brought him into the kitchen while Himself chopped the liver into little morsels.

‘Not too much,’ I said, putting a tiny offering onto Bussie’s plate. We watched while he sniffed at it – gulped (oh no) and then – tucked in! In silence we watched as he ate the first lot, then devoured more – and a bit more. We couldn’t speak, stared at each other, hardly daring to believe what we saw.

He didn’t hang around to say, ‘thanks you two,’ or ‘hey, that was scrummy,’ but gave his paws a cursory lick and was out the catflap before you could say What?

He did reappear a few hours later, tucked into another dish of liver and departed, just as quickly. Well, I guess that’s cats for you. If I wasn’t so weak with relief, I might feel quite insulted.

He’s also eaten another dish of liver this morning, so for the first time in two weeks, I’m feeling cat worry free. It’s quite a strange feeling. I can begin to think again.

The other cheering news was that the girls came over with a wedding package, as we hadn’t been able to make the reception.

They arrived with several bags of Cornish cheese, some home made scones, two pieces of wedding cake and a wedding posy which is sitting on our chest of drawers. I was more touched than I can say, but they regaled us with stories of the photographer who got them to pose in strange angles for photographs (??!!) (He was Very Attractive, I thought, with tight muscular buttocks. But we won’t go there.)

There was also the guest who managed to get stuck in the toilet at the reception. She was, by all accounts, Massive and very drunk. And hysterical. Not a good combination. They finally managed to extract her, and she stood for a while, swaying, before crashing to the ground in a perfectly straight line, just like in a film, to land on her nose.

RT was terrified that she would have broken her nose and there’d be a pool of blood seeping onto her mother’s carpet. But the guest muttered a drunken ‘oh,’ before passing out – by some fluke she hadn’t broken anything.

‘Tell you what,’ said ET. ‘I’m very glad I don’t have to see her at work for another couple of weeks. I don’t know what I’d say.’

I grinned. ‘Been to any good weddings lately?’

And I leave you with this quote courtesy of my dear sister in law, walking buddy and cat consultant, Shelagh. Unfortunately she lives in Vermont so we don't see each other nearly as much as we'd like (well, as I would like) but at least we can keep in touch via cyberspace.

"It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three
unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudence never to practice either of them." -Mark Twain, author and humorist (1835-1910)