Oh dear, I’ve not been well. Not well at all. By Tuesday, I hadn’t eaten anything for two days and I was behaving very oddly. I kept thinking I wanted a drink, going over to the water bowl, and somehow forgetting I was thirsty. Then I’d just stare at my reflection like Narcissus, feeling confused. I’d stopped talking as well, hardly emitting so much as a mew all day, and I was a bit wobbly on my feet. Martin took me to the vet, who wasn’t optimistic. I got the usual thermometer up my bottom and blood tests, and then some great drugs that fair perked me up. By the time I got home I almost felt like my old self, and tucked into a small bowl of sardines in tomato sauce with some gusto. However, I understand this improvement may be a temporary reprieve - they’re waiting for the test results, you see. I’m afraid I may not be able to entertain you on this blog for much longer….
But let’s not be morbid. Martin’s cooking vindaloo tonight! I saw the pork going into its spicy, vinegary marinade yesterday evening, so it will be maturing nicely in the fridge ready for him to slap it in the pan when he gets home.
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