The Mothership seems to be beaming very clear “Go apeshit” messages to the feline population at the moment. This is not good.
Louis Catorze, still full of the post-steroid munchies, has been more of a pain than I can possibly describe, with Cat Daddy describing his all-day screaming as “beyond a joke”. Catorze’s French frère-from-another-mère, Antoine, is also behaving oddly, bouncing around on the kitchen worktop (where he’s not allowed). However, the prize for the absolute worst goes to Catorze’s cat-cousin King Ghidorah who, after overgrooming a relatively minor scratch into something awful, raised merry hell throughout my sister’s efforts to fix him.
King Ghidorah was booked for a 3:30pm appointment with the vet one afternoon and, naturellement, when it was time to leave, he was nowhere to be seen.
My sister hunted in all the usual and unusual places but to no avail, then had to make the Call of Shame to inform the vet that she wouldn’t be coming because she didn’t know where her cat was. Most vets are quite used to this, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing when you’re the one having to make that call.
King Ghidorah eventually rolled in a couple of hours after the appointment, not giving a single shite about the upset caused. My sister hastily packaged him up, then called the vet to ask whether they had any availability that evening.
They didn’t.
So she had to unpackage him again, and her next-door neighbour later sent her this:

Oui, Mesdames et Messieurs: after royally stuffing up the afternoon, he spent the early evening sitting on the neighbours’ skylight, creepily spying on them and (most likely) sniggering with glee at the success of his dastardly plan.
If you think your cat is behaving normally, be warned that there’s a full moon coming. It won’t last.
UPDATE: King Ghidorah made it to the vet eventually and it turns out that, despite regular Advocatting, he has fleas, no doubt from his numerous scraps with dodgy members of the feral gang living in the badlands of SE20. Hopefully the steroid shot to stop the itching, and the change of flea medication from Advocate to something stronger, will see him well again.
So – that ISN’T LeRoi on the skylight ? It is hard enough to differentiate between black cats, but we don’t even sppeak French !
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No, this is his cat-cousin spying on the neighbours. 🤣🤣🤣
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I don’t think Poor King Ghidorah was spying on your sister’s neighbours. According to me, he was fleeing the fleas which made him crazy and he thought the neighbours’ skylight was a good place to avoid them.
😺
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He was deffo spying! And possibly also hiding from being packaged up again.
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Love that photograph but I’m sure it must me very scary for the humans below… 🙂
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Yes, especially in the half-light of dusk. His silhouette must have looked like Batman.
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The fleas are something else this season. What are they on?!
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Luckily we haven’t had any at Le Château yet. It’s a bit worrying that regular de-fleaing isn’t a guarantee of preventing them.
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I’ve got one scabby mummy-cat, one baldy legs and two who are fine. Just got some Stronghold as their usual flea stuff isn’t touching them. Hopefully that will see them off! 🤞🤦🏻♀️
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Stronghold is quite severe stuff, isn’t it?
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I really hope so! They look homeless! It’s only available with prescription so I think it’s pretty full on.
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That is hilarious! And believe me when I say it is happening up north too! (Not the skylight sitting, you understand).
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King Ghidorah is creating so many dramas at the moment. More to follow later!
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I had one cat Hazel that could not be boxed up except at eating time. All her appointments were first thing in the morning so I could snatch her as she was eating breakfast. It should have made her neurotic but it didn’t. At the end, when she was sick, we no longer needed to play the food game. She was too exhausted to fight. That was sad. I would rather have her challenging me.
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Aww, Hazel! I can just imagine you sneaking up as she’s tucking into her breakfast.
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I know. I felt bad about it but not bad enough to not do it.
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So lovely to look up at a skylight at dusk, with the gradual fading of the suns’ rays revealing the beauty of Gods’ handiwork, the majesty of which has no words…the ass of Spy Cat 😼
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The tail is tucked so hopefully – HOPEFULLY – that will save the poor neighbours from that awful sight. It’s true that there are no words.
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Our cat Floki is like that. He is nearly impossible to catch because he can read our thoughts, even when sleeping. If we do manage to grab him, he turns into a category five tornado and it is almost impossible to get him into the carrier. We make an appointment for a nail trimming because, obviously, we can’t do it, and then have to cancel half the time because we lost him under the bed.
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Oh goodness! I would’ve put my money on Chris doing that!
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Chris was worse when he was young but Floki is unbelievable.
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Hahaha, that picture made me laugh so much! I would have loved to see this, like an omen, a sign from the gods, cats raining from heaven (or the mothership), a cat watching over us all making sure we’re doing well and behaving (as should we) 😀
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King Ghidorah is a right scamp. When he first arrived at my sister’s he did everything to try to escape his initial house arrest, even going up the chimney!
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Poor King Ghidorah! Hope he’s feeling better.
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He’s doing well, thank you. Well enough to invite friends back to his non-Sureflapped house. More about that later!
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