Today is the day I have my stitches removed.  There is no point going off to the vets for things like this.  Momma is capable of yanking a few bits of purple string from my skin.  I didn't have any antibiotics and it all healed really well.  I am a tough cookie and fight off most things with verve and vigour.  I sometimes wonder just why I am allergic to so many things and get all this cancer when I fight so hard and heal very quickly?  It is beyond me.  I remember when we all had to be blood tested for horrible FoCV.  I was the only one with a zero titre count and every time I showed great resistance to everything.  I am a miracle really.  My ticker was in a right mess until I met Vet Simon.  Although, I despise taking my medication, I do get a scooby snax right afterwards so that makes it all ok! 

Having your stitches out requires a strong stomach.  ManSlave can't be in the same room when they come out. He says it makes his leggies all weak. But Momma is right in there with her pink scissors and pully thingie. Well Simon does these little X stitches so yanking them out is a bit tickly, so Momma uses the pully thing to draw the string out instead of pulling it hard.  Makes for a better experience. You gotta be sure you don't cut it in the wrong place either. For example, if you just cut the stitch in the middle you could end up with a bit left in there!  There is a knack and always stick to the knotted side for a smooth exit.

When Faith was neutered around Xmas, some of her wound went a little soggy.  Simon called it a long fancy name and pulled out his stitches and stapled her tummy together. It was a bit yucky and Momma winced when he clipped her tummy back together.  Faith still had a few stitches left so Momma removed those but had to take her back for the staples to be removed.  Faith was very brave and the process is very quick indeed with a special remover, kind of like the one in our office. ManSlave reckons we could have laid her out in the office and done the job just as well?  This is the human whose leggies go weak.  Yeah, right ManSlave!

Well, it's all done. I am purple thread free. It didn't hurt and in fact I didn't even move a muscle. It's my third operation, not including pompomdectamy, so I am a dab-paw at such things. Well, the rest of the day is mapped out now.  It is linen change day, so I shall retreat to the top of the fridge and smell the delights that are rising from the depths of the oven. It's a lovely piece of Simmental beef that is making a delicious smell today.  I doubt I will get any bits of that but Momma may let me lick a little gravy from her finger if I am a good boy.  But until then I can lay here and dream of my bowl being filled to overflowing with it.

​KS =^..^= 

In between the arguing and fighting there is peace in the house.  Oh, that's right, I haven't been telling you about the CatWomen fighting have I?  Well, it all started just before Faith went in to be neutered, ahhh, I haven't enlightened you on that either... Pfft.  Well, she was being particularly nasty to Gracie, who actually is quite a pest when it comes to growling at us all, so Faith took it upon herself to teach Gracie a lesson by pummeling her into submission, except this has created a monster!  Combine that that with the babies leaving home and her protecting Flaire with every inch of her being it has made for a very bubbly cooking pot.

Faith having lost her Queenism and thus top cat positioning within the Pride has just made matters worse as she is still fighting to hang on to her space at the top and believe me she is one Brahma when it comes to a fight.  I never like being on the receiving end of that one! Quite a fearsome black panther has laid dormant all these years and yet Momma can somehow see right through her new guise. Momma sees through most stuff.  With her special sing songy voice, Momma can have Faith dancing to a totally different tune entirely and turn this marauding wild beast into a tip toey dancing queen, uh um, princess.  Momma's little princess, always will be.  Although, on several occasions ManSlave has said he will put her out with the rubbish if this all continues.  He doesn't mean it, I know this first hand, he has been threatening such stuff with me for years and I am still trapped here!  

You can't help but laugh at Faith's technique of walking sedately past Gracie, who incidentally at this point is growling, then she stands on her tippy toes and arches her back, sideways on to Grace, tail arched too in semi play and then she does her her move.  Gracie is now hollering and starting to scream so Faith enacts her feline tango. A progressive sidestep, turns to open promenade, this gets Gracie's hackles up, she is now wailing so faith enlists her jump forward four step to sounds of hissing from Gracie and ends with copious amounts of oversway and a flourish of back corte to finish Gracie off - never once touching her but it's enough to make Gracie head for the hills or actually the box under the cat tree and there boxing match starts with hollering and yelling which is enough to stop even the most sleepiest cats in it's slumber - well, actually it's more like Momma's voice shouting 'oi oi oi  girls' over the top of the whole senario - not the quietest of sleeps i can tell you.

So, to what will be the end of this misery in the Pride?  Momma has her techniques, her efforts to make things work and feeding times are a start. If every one can eat side by side as equals, then there is hope for a happier future.  There is sometimes a little licking of coats and rubbing of chins and the odd swipe from Lillibet and Gracie as they have a set too or Lillibet swipes at Flaire or Faith grumbles at everyone who comes too close but in short - it is possible to bring them all together in a line. It has taken a few weeks of hard graft, I don't see what the issue is eat or be eaten is my motto not like these fickle and picky 'ladies wot lunch'! 

KS =^..^=

Oh yes, a chicken is in the oven.  Unusually, it's a normal free range one from Lidl, apparently the parentals are trying it out over their Welsummer or Dorking. It's a cost exercise apparently.  Well, so far it looks ok, maybe a little anemic? But once in the broiling bag I guess there won't be much difference once surrounded by carrots, baby potatoes and parsnips. Mmmm, it's making my mouth water at the thought of it, minus the veg of course!

The light still hasn't been fixed in the oven so I am left peering into its darkness imagining it browning and cooking away, making juices and luxurious smells. It will be awhile now - I may as well go for a nap. I shall go on the top of the fidge, from there I can see everything going on. Right into the lounge and every detail in the kitchen as well as poking my head around the door for a spot of birdy watching.  This is the life on a Sunday. Stay out of the fray of cleaning and bed stripping. Leave that to the youngans, plus I have my sore sore to worry about. It needs a little wash and a tug at the stitches.  In fact, my tongue is so rough that the single stitch at the end, the one that isn't Simon's signature cross stitch, has vanished and I am not one to presume but I feel it might make an appearance in my chocolate gold.

Anyway, I digress a little.  I see from various busyments that the Parentals are thinking of going away.  Everything is packed neatly and even our going away trays have gone into the car. This means ROAD TRIP!  Our collars are laid out and dishes packed. Yep, I think we are all going somewhere with a lady names Amara? Apparently she is a very large 'van'?  That's the same sort as me, I am a black and white van.  I wonder if this is what they are talking about?  ManSlave and Momma took all our stuff away and they were gone for hours and hours, it was way past our noms time and the poor chicken has been in the oven for hours and hourstoo.  It is well and truly cooked. I can just see it laying prostrate in it's bag, collapsed under the steam - it has literally broiled to death. I feel that if the Parentals are any later we will be fighting to get that oven door prized open and have us a feast. My tummy is rumbling and Flaire is squeaking in her monotone voice like her Mother.

Finally, the Parentals made it home, they both look very sad and a little cold. But what's this, a big truck and ManSlaves car is perched high on its back. There are discussions over the limp chicken of us not going away to see Amara and that ManSlaves car is very sick indeed.  What a real shame. We were looking forward to an adventure. hey ho... I shall dream of this lady Amara.  I bet she is one beautiful gal. Oh and we all got some of that broiled chook.  It was like eating soup with chicken string, but very nice all the same - I think you could call it stew in a bag!

KS =^..^=

It's all very well acting the hero but in truth I am a baby and a bit of a cat tart when it comes to being at the vets.  Of course, I don't flirt with Simon, that's wrong on so many levels.  But when there are copious amounts of lady vet nurses on hand to satisfy my every need in the head bonking and purring department - I am only too happy to oblige.  It would be sour puss of me to decline such advances of love and affection.  Of course the way to a Kings heart is through his belly and no matter how much I purred and rubbed my head on their faces, there was no kibble coming my way.  Pfft.  Apparently, I was going under the knife.  So that's why I have been unnecessarily starved and tortured by the others eating kibble for their brekki. YAWP.

I have regrown my Neoplasm, and the last one was cancerous, so Simon decided that my ticker is in very good health now, with no hint of even a murmur and therefore I was able to be sedated this time.  Phew, I hate the sight of blood and I nearly passed out last time.  I was given super attention and felt quite loving after it was all done and complete.  Wowzers, when I cast my licker over the wound my innards curled up and shriveled a bit. Made e twinge so much that I left the washing of it to Faith when I got home.  No way I was washing that thing with it's purple whiskers.  Damn freeloaders attaching themselves to my skin and now I shall have a scar to take over the two scars before it. I will be a hero. I will say I fought a dragon or a giant dog! Heck yeah, I will be lifted up onto the shoulders of ManSlave and carried aloft with shouts of King Slinky Slayer!  Sorry, it must be the drugs they gave me, they are making me rather giddy.

Of course, once home, I milked it for all it's worth.  Momma caring for me. Sleeping next to her in bed and having my sore sore washed and bathed in salt water to dry it out quickly.  Oh yes, I love the attention. Snuggled in Momma's arms with her cooing at how brave I am. This is the life. This is how to spend ManSlaves money. This is the English Dream!  

​ 

It's the Sunday before my big operation and I grab myself a couple of lamb shanks.  Oh how they smell when they are cooking. yummy.  I waited for my opportunity to ask 'nicely' for one of them, but when I saw two in the offering I just couldn't help myself - I wanted BOTH!

Lamb shanks are lush. They are good for my teeth and chewing off the knobbly bits satisfy the tiger in me.  I can manage to get my jaws around the whole big end and crunch down. It is quite a spectacle to see and the noise is wonderful.  I am not adverse to sharing and the littlest pride member got stuck in too.  I never growl or get upset, I do have manners even if I do snap at things and yank stuff from plates if they are left unguarded.  I wouldn't hurt a baby.  

These bones were getting tricky and I managed to wedge one of them into ManSlaves trainer. It was great for getting out those last morsels. I will hide away later or around the time ManSlave will put his shoes on, only to find a lamb bone in there. Ooops. All part of the service and showing my affection.  Now, just to finish these last bits and then have me a snooze.  It will be a long day tomorrow and I need to get my beauty sleep. I have ladies to woo! 

How does it feel when you are super tired and some human inadvertently switches on the light where you are sleeping.  The looks we give them are enough to burn holes through their souls.  But then we get apologies and kisses. Pfft.  We don't want those.  We have just spent an hour washing them off, laying in a steaming dampness of our own lick and then we are KISSED AGAIN!  TURN OFF THE LIGHT!  Really this is all we ask.  We don't want to be told we are soggy and damp - this is our choice AND we were asleep!

So in return, we sleep all day, then at night make wonderful noises in the kitchen to wake the Parentals. Things like knocking crockery from the sides or rummaging through the recycle bins. All of which make wonderful night time noises.  If we are 'honoured' enough to be in the bedroom with Momma (really it's is she who is honoured!!) then we make a point of waking her at 1am with soggy noses and cold ears as we snuggle under the covers.  Then at 6am promptly we wake up and watch the sun rise and the birdies and Horrible Horace run about the garden collecting their fodder for the day.  All the time thrashing our tails against the radiator and swishing the curtain lining, not to mention jangling the sun chimes.

Oh yes, we get our own back on you. We are not adverse to standing on your face to get somewhere, poke our paws in your ears, lick your eyelashes whilst you sleep.  Jump onto your back when you are busy bending over or run up your body to get to a fly or moth.  We have the memories of a Pachyderm and if needs be save it all up and postpone our 'returns' to just one day of trouble and drama just when you need it most.

So humans. Beware of turning on the lights when we are at rest. Refrain from kissing our tummies. Think of the consequences when you play with our sleepy paws.  We are counting them up and when you least expect it will will take it out on your feet, toilet rolls and precious things! 

​KS =^..^=
  

Well, you would never have guessed it - Kevin came back home to spend the weekend with us.  What fun!  His visit was tinged with a little sadness as on the very same evening Sophia was leaving home to travel the 9hrs train, bus and taxi ride to Scotland with her new Mummy and Aunty.  Flaire was as happy as ever having her favourite playmate back. How they got on, racing about and having extreme fun.  But back to the task in hand - it was Kevin's big day at a cat show.   All he had to do was lay there and purr like crazy and come home with a rosette.  Purrsonally, I believe he was done over - he got a third, but apparently, it's not the colour of the rosette which is important, it's the taking part and being good.  Pfft. Heck, we all know it's about red ones!  Hold up... No wonder he didn't win a red one - they were PINK!  Good boy Kevin for not letting the side down, a yellow one is perfectly acceptable in these circumstances.

His behaviour was impeccable and his cuteness overflowing.  His new Mummy was busy stewarding and Momma was busy Judging, well not that busy, I hear on the grape vine that she was the laughing stock, she dropped a rather large pusser on stage.  He slithered from her grasp, all 7K of him. Gone like a bar of soap. Momma was rather upset and luckily the kitty was very calm, just sitting under the table quite pleased with himself.

Momma slithered off herself, whipped her judges coat off and collected Kevin, who cuddled into her jumper for the remainder of the show and watched the professionals handle the cats across the table.  Kevin took it all in his stride. Purring and looking about and then falling asleep and having everyone coo over him.  What a great start to his show career in PedPets.  We are all very proud of him and his new Mummy.  We hear he is to have his pompoms removed very soon. He was whisked off to his new home before this bit could be done. Lucky lad. 

Well, the roast is cooking, I think I may crawl out of bed and see what it is we are having - I presume it is chicken in a bag, the smell is reduced you see, I think it is done to reduce my YAWPING!  Well, I shall go an YAWP for good measure and get the whole house mewling about some lunch in our empty dishes. YAWP YAWP YAWP.  Now, I wonder if CatLine are open on Sundays?

​KS =^..^=

You may remember back in July when I had my little friend removed?  Well, it's back with a vengeance.  Momma first noticed it was growing at Christmas time and thought we may get a few more months before it turned nasty like the other one. But it seems to be growing and growing even faster than wart one, which may I remind you all came back as the big 'C'.  Well, OK, just a little 'C'.  So, here we are again with folks shying away from my skin abrasions which inevitably means less fuss.  Only visitors mind you, Momma still loves me!

I am booked in to visit Simon in a week or so.  He has managed to snatch a bit of holiday just when I need him.  Hey ho, saves my bottom from the rigours of the FURMOMETER!  My new friend now has it's own blood supply - this means trouble and if not caught in time may track along to my lymphatic system.  It's a cruel world, especially for ManSlave's wallet.  We hear him muttering about how he could have had a Cobra?  Who would want a Cobra? Where would he keep it?  He mutters further about how he could clear the garage out etc... I am taking it Cobras are REALLY BIG!  He further goes on about how he could drive around and feel young again?  I can give him all that.  Only yesterday I vomited on the kitchen floor and he stood in it first thing in the morning, that sent him hopping about.  Keep you fit ManSlave, no Cobra gonna do that!

​KS =^..^=