It is more than a week since I added a post to my blog. I promised myself, on a stack of my favourite books and dirty dishes that I could commit to a weekly post.
Unfortunately, that hasn't lasted long. While I could say that it is because I have been too busy reading everyone else's blogs (partly true), it really is because I went and found the household another cat. Actually, I found myself another cat. It was my idea and because everyone else was too polite to say "DON'T DO IT" and block the pet rescue page on the internet, I took that as an assumption that it was a fabulous idea for everyone.
Everything was great for the first hour after Sweetie, a 7 year old pure bred Korat moved in. She checked out the lodgings and promptly went to sleep on our bed. Things deteriorated rapidly after that. By the time everyone else arrived home, she had taken up residence in the wardrobe and was hissing loudly as soon as anyone walked into the room.
I was quite content to let her stay there until she felt ready to come out but after a while John politely said, "There's a smell coming from the wardrobe. I think we had better get her out." Poop (literally.) We had to do something.
Now we have:
(1) a traumatised cat
(2) a very sore hand where the teeth went through the gardening gloves
(3) an upset stomach from the antibiotics to counteract the infection in the hand
(4) a very upset siamese cat called Su-nee
I forgot to mention that we already had a cat. It really is her house. She tells us what to do and we usually do it. Except I didn't ask her permission to get another cat.
Perhaps I should have?