Having settled into our new flat there were two things missing from domestic bliss, the first being the internet! However as of the 27th we will have a shiny new land line and there is finally a router on the way so hopefully on the 27th of this month I will be back!
The second thing missing (and the most important by far) was a tiny little girl called Tahora (Swahili for purity-my house-mate's cat Mooku is Japanese for purity so not wanting to call her by a human name following the trend seemed a good idea). A week ago tomorrow a tiny, abandoned, underweight, kitten sized cat decided to claim me for her own-I blame (and thank) the friend who took me to the shelter because I'd never been!
So for the last 6 days we have been enduring fighting and moaning and rumbles under the sofa and a couple of sleepless nights as the two cats get used to each other. I have also been enduring my own personal hell and milestone of pet ownership in the yucky goo her eye is producing (I have a massive eye phobia and have been known to punch or ostracise people who take advantage of this just so you know). So as a brand new cat owner (she is my first) I have discovered that a dirty nappy is better than a dirty litter tray, papers baby wipes taste better to her than huggies, and at 18months she is still very much a kitten but a little confused as to her breed! by this I mean that she (and on occasion Mooku) seem to think she is a dog.
At least 3 times a day I am treated to her chasing her tail around the rug (usually ending up flying off the rug sliding across the wooden floor and looking indignant) in order to me able to clean it-apparently it has a mind of its own and is determined not to behave! We try not to point out that chasing your tail is predominately a canine pastime, she has had a hard enough start! We also have at least 3 episodes of her walking around the flat emitting a sound that is somewhere between ow, no and a newborn crying. Having tried to discover the meaning behind this sound I can only conclude that she wants everyone to know she is still there so we wont abandon her (she frequently peeks round the door checking we are still there while she is exploring).
So those are the two major pieces of news, the rest of the time has been sent alternating between the hospital and the doctors for various appointments, oh and the fact that after my MRSA swabs tomorrow I will get a date for my stay in the Royal National Hospital for Rheumatic Diseases in Bath for intensive physiotherapy, hydrotherapy and general torture (of the useful kind). It will also mean that I can get a date to start my pain management therapy using mindfulness-it should go nicely with the pilates demonstrated so elegantly by Darcy Bussell that reduces everyone who has tried it to swearing at her description of a 'lovely burning sensation in your muscle'. Other than that (and her general gracefulness) it is actually a very good programme, even a cripple like me can do 90% of the exercises!
I think that is it for news so far, there will be a picture of my beautiful cat here very soon (in fact comparisons of her in the shelter, her first day at home and her new healthier physique that is already beginning to show), now we just need to get her through her spaying and me through my biopsy (to see if my busitis is infected) and injections of various drugs that will apparently hurt enough to need a local anaesthetic (which work for about 2 minutes on me much to the annoyance of my last anaesthetist). Both of which are happening tomorrow! Here's hoping for speedy work on me and good work on her!
The second thing missing (and the most important by far) was a tiny little girl called Tahora (Swahili for purity-my house-mate's cat Mooku is Japanese for purity so not wanting to call her by a human name following the trend seemed a good idea). A week ago tomorrow a tiny, abandoned, underweight, kitten sized cat decided to claim me for her own-I blame (and thank) the friend who took me to the shelter because I'd never been!
So for the last 6 days we have been enduring fighting and moaning and rumbles under the sofa and a couple of sleepless nights as the two cats get used to each other. I have also been enduring my own personal hell and milestone of pet ownership in the yucky goo her eye is producing (I have a massive eye phobia and have been known to punch or ostracise people who take advantage of this just so you know). So as a brand new cat owner (she is my first) I have discovered that a dirty nappy is better than a dirty litter tray, papers baby wipes taste better to her than huggies, and at 18months she is still very much a kitten but a little confused as to her breed! by this I mean that she (and on occasion Mooku) seem to think she is a dog.
At least 3 times a day I am treated to her chasing her tail around the rug (usually ending up flying off the rug sliding across the wooden floor and looking indignant) in order to me able to clean it-apparently it has a mind of its own and is determined not to behave! We try not to point out that chasing your tail is predominately a canine pastime, she has had a hard enough start! We also have at least 3 episodes of her walking around the flat emitting a sound that is somewhere between ow, no and a newborn crying. Having tried to discover the meaning behind this sound I can only conclude that she wants everyone to know she is still there so we wont abandon her (she frequently peeks round the door checking we are still there while she is exploring).
So those are the two major pieces of news, the rest of the time has been sent alternating between the hospital and the doctors for various appointments, oh and the fact that after my MRSA swabs tomorrow I will get a date for my stay in the Royal National Hospital for Rheumatic Diseases in Bath for intensive physiotherapy, hydrotherapy and general torture (of the useful kind). It will also mean that I can get a date to start my pain management therapy using mindfulness-it should go nicely with the pilates demonstrated so elegantly by Darcy Bussell that reduces everyone who has tried it to swearing at her description of a 'lovely burning sensation in your muscle'. Other than that (and her general gracefulness) it is actually a very good programme, even a cripple like me can do 90% of the exercises!
I think that is it for news so far, there will be a picture of my beautiful cat here very soon (in fact comparisons of her in the shelter, her first day at home and her new healthier physique that is already beginning to show), now we just need to get her through her spaying and me through my biopsy (to see if my busitis is infected) and injections of various drugs that will apparently hurt enough to need a local anaesthetic (which work for about 2 minutes on me much to the annoyance of my last anaesthetist). Both of which are happening tomorrow! Here's hoping for speedy work on me and good work on her!
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