Few people love my cat. She’s not a pretty creature. She hobbles now under her excessive body weight and her fur is kind of ratty and if you touch her, a cloud of loose hairs rise into the atmosphere to make your eyes itch and water. She also obliviously sports a good-sized hunk of shit on her back-end under her tail. It’s tough not being as bendy as you used to be.
What’s nice though, is that Seabrook has known me since Teacher’s College, when Frankie and I shared a tiny, dingy basement apartment in London, and Seabrook likes Frankie. That makes Seabrook a very special kind of friend.
Anyway, today Frankie came to join the Peron household. We’ve assigned a room just for her and I lovingly chose a cat bed at the local Pet store (the cheapest one available) and placed it in a corner of the room with an old kitchen mat and a raggedy beach towel. I opened the blinds so she’d have sunlight and I put a baby gate to quarantine her to her area.
She didn’t love it at first. She cried and I thought, my goodness, this is going to be a painful transition. But then she found her little bed and she had a nap. I brushed her seven or eight times, which she LOVES. And then I opened the door so she could explore the upstairs. I moved the baby gate to the top of the stairs. She waddled to almost into the bathroom – took a rest lying in the doorway – then worked up the strength to make it to the bath mat where she slept for an hour or so. I thought it would be fun to take her outside. She’s on a strict mission to lose weight – doctor’s orders – so just being outside, I hoped, would stimulate her to move a bit more than normal. And she did seem excited. She walked along the brick path to the archway where the rose bushes are, then turned around and went back to the door. I tried to coax her up the five stairs to her special suite, but I heard two big thuds and found she’d abandoned hope on the second step. When I moved her up to her bed (which I’d now put at the top of the stairs so she could see everything that’s going on) she slept for three hours. I woke her up to make sure she was still alive. Then she slept for several more hours.
I took down the baby gate from the top of the stairs. It just doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere fast.
Frankie's Big Hoorahs for today:
1. Survived two hour drive from Peterborough
2. Had most of nails clipped
Frankie's Big Goals for tomorrow:
1. Tackle the shit on hind end
2. Maybe try to make it to the end of the yard