A passion for winkles

Old Tablet, aged 17, has not eaten solid food for two months. Yes, that's right - two months!

Following a routine visit to the vet to have his ears examined, the cleaning-out procedure that ensued proved so stressful to him (as well as to myself and the nurse who were holding him down), that on returning home he went into a state of PTSD, curled up in a ball and would take no nourishment except the occasional drink of water. After a week's hunger strike he accepted a little of that old stand-by, evaporated milk - but anything solid, however tempting, he rejected. So I introduced  pureed fresh salmon  into the milk and salmon smoothies are what he has been living on ever since. (I've just burnt out my precious grinder as a result.)

But lo and behold! We'd foraged a load of mussels and winkles for supper and suddenly there was Tablet, stretching up to the (already claw-ravaged) kitchen table to grab morsels of his favourite food and to chow them down with all the gusto of old.

Looks I'll have to be making regular trips to the sea shore to keep him going through his dotage.

(The linguine alle cozze  was excellent too.)