A shot in the arm

When I got up at 6 o’clock this morning and went to feed the cats I found an invader in the garden - The nasty local tabby with a significant obesity problem and a feral attitude. I say obesity problem, actually he is just big and mean and strong. I thought my charm offensive was winning and he started to come towards me making reconcilliatory noises, but when I tried to pick him up - despite my protective gloves and my jumper - he bit me in the forearm and ran away again. I Eventually managed to catch him and throw him out but he left me sore and bloodied.

I washed the bites and scratches in some grappa off the booze shelf. No one drinks that filthy stuff but I reckoned it would make for a good antiseptic. But it hurt like hell and when I spoke to the GP on the phone she booked for me to come in at the end of the day for antibiotics and a tetanus jab. Powerful little bugger. The cat I mean not the GP.

I felt cold and in shock tonight. Probably my encounter and near death experience with a big cat. I pulled on my snood and an old blanket and tried to get warm, with Scout and Monty’s help (see extra).

TSM has rescued me twice already this week - yesterday when all the trains got cancelled and today making a mercy dash to the doctor before the surgery packed up. It must be love ...