On peut détruire ce qu’on a écrit, mais on ne peut pas le déécrire


Poor Catorze isn’t looking so good these days. His right eye has lost so much fur all the way around that he looks like Alex Delarge from A Clockwork Orange. And, last night, the dreadful itch-yelp returned; this is the ear-splitting sound that he makes when he scratches and breaks the skin.

We’re doing everything as we did in September/October, when he was looking his best, so we have no idea whatsoever why things have turned to merde now. It’s frustrating beyond belief. But the good news is that it’s not affecting his mood in the way it has before; although he’s lost a little of his Chat Noir sparkle, he still manages to find the inclination to cuddle us on the sofa in the evenings. And he has taken to having Post-Meds Cuddles with Cat Daddy whenever he medicates him (whereas I just get claws and teeth when it’s my turn).

We have tried so hard to find a pattern to Louis Catorze’s flare-ups and have failed so far, but this will be the third November in a row which has seen a downturn in his condition. (He wasn’t with us in November 2013 but, having seen the awful photos taken in January 2014, it would make sense that November was around the time things began to slide, to reach their nadir 2 months later.)

There is clearly something in the house or the winter environment that is less present at other times of the year and, whatever it is, it was present both at Le Palais and at his previous foster home too. I just wish I knew what the heck it could be.

5 thoughts on “On peut détruire ce qu’on a écrit, mais on ne peut pas le déécrire

  1. Isn’t it interesting that time and distance has no bearing on both affection and distress in our love and empathy for the petite black royal feline. Anthropomorphic transubstantion aside, he has in fact captured hearts, with the devoted aid of his principal and talented amanuensis, that proves those temporal limitations as mere epherema. I hope, along with all his subjects, that he recovers to normal as soon as possible.

    He is well named, this homonyme of the historical Louis. Since the original only bathed three times in his malodorous life, you’d think the reincarnation would have filtered out a few more of the royal maladies.

    Get well, mon Roi.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you! It’s delightful to know that a plain little black cat without 2 brain cells to rub together can touch hearts and minds across oceans!


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