...as it appears I'm not quite ready for the big litter-tray in the sky! The vet 'phoned today and the blood tests show that I don't have kidney failure! The bad news is that I
do have diabetes, just like Martin's mum. (She's eighty and I'm only seventeen-and-three-quarters, but I am in fact older than her in cat years; about a hundred and something, I think. Not that I know what a year is, really, what with not having a firm grasp on the concept of time.)
Anyway, I'm delighted I've got a few more months of head-butts, purring, spider-chasing and inexplicable, doomed attempts to shag my sister ahead of me. Not to mention the wonderful prospect of all those hours and hours of sleep. Unfortunately my diet will be curtailed a little - they're going to try me on some special diabetic catfood. It looks like I've had my last Mars bar.
No comments:
Post a Comment