07 June 2008

Interlude: The Neurotic Cat

The beast

We have a cat called Leo. Leo is 15 or 16....well very old and completely neurotic. He's afraid of tinfoil, people, the cling film (because the box looks like the tin foil), the dishwasher door when its open and you put away dishes, children, builders, other cats, other peoples gardens, plastic bags and the evil hoover. He goes up stairs to bed and cries (can some one come up and tuck me in please), even though we have never gone up to him. He cries at you if you stand, if you enter the room, sits at the bottom of the stairs and looks up and cries.......need I say more

A little history of the cat please- Well, he did belong to Nan P, but she moved to the big smoke a few years ago and brought the cat with her. They both lived with us for a few months while her apartment was being built, and then the cat stayed with us when she moved out. That's how we ended up with an old crazy cat.

While Cathal was in the hospital the first time, there was little time for Leo, so he started to lick his fur off. He does this when he is stressed out. He picks a patch, licks off the fur, then starts on another patch and on and on it goes. Now he's been to the vet several times for this and they put it down to a flee bite.

I don't think so....it's all in his head!!!

Turns out I was right, the vet agrees with me. We had moved house, new carpets, middle of winter, and he did it again. You can see him twitching and then he licks ferociously at the spot. And then it cost €90 for the vet + steroids + antibiotics. Ah here now, it's a bloody old senile cat.

So baby comes home from hospital. What the hell is this thing!!! Lick, lick, lick. And then just as he is getting used to the bloody thing, it's gone again, and nobody is around to look after him. Lick, lick, lick. Luckily there were a few steroid tablets left, one a day in bit of raw mince....tasty. All sorted....

Until, one day, that squirmy thing is back again!!!! Lick, lick, lick, lick, lick.... And now he's taken to sleeping in the laundry basket.

I give up with this animal, I really do. But we love him anyway...

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