The last of the sun

They're closing just in time for curfew. When I'm home all day there are few alternatives to flowers or vines.

Mystère gave us a terrible fright yesterday evening. He'd been out briefly, came back in looking completely normal, then ten minutes later suddenly gave a loud yowl and started hyperventilating and drooling impressively. He's never done this before; we immediately thought he'd been poisoned,  and after five minutes we were so panic-stricken we rang the emergency vet, who unfortunately turned out to be in Narbonne, a 40-minute drive away. While S got directions from him, I ran around finding the travel basket and printing out the dreaded attestation. When I returned, S had put the phone down and Mystère was lying on the sofa looking perfectly normal. We gave him ten minutes, and he stretched out on the sofa and fell asleep. So S rang the vet back and said we'd wait till this morning.

By 1:30 a.m. Mystère was feeling fine and loudly demanding to be let out. And again at 5 a.m. Sigh. So we skipped the vet and just kept him at home under observation. He's eaten, drunk, used the litter tray, had a five-minute play with me just now. Very weird. But all being well tonight, he can have his freedom back tomorrow.