It’s the winter solstice and, as ever, I tend to spend this time of year reflecting on the past twelve months. 2024 hasn’t really been the best, what with ill health, bereavement and suchlike, but at least next year has to be better, non?
Louis Catorze sadly lost a couple of his (younger) comrades this year: Lucky, one of the Northern tuxedo cat gang, and Samba, the sparring partner of Catorze’s departed cousin, King Ghidorah.
Have a look here if you’d like to read about the time we met Lucky and his siblings, all dressed for the black tie gala. And look here for one of the many times that Samba and King Ghidorah tired of alfresco scrapping and continued in my sister’s house. (You know when people want to ramp it up a notch and they say, “I think we ought to step outside”? Well, they stepped INSIDE.)
We send lots of love to Lucky’s and Samba’s humans.
At the risk of sounding repetitive – I’m aware that I say something like this every winter solstice – it’s nothing short of miraculous that Catorze, despite old age creeping up behind him and placing an icy hand firmly on his shoulder, is continuing to thrive.
(Cat Daddy: “It’s not miraculous. It’s all the bloody expensive food we give him.”)
And not only do our own ears and eyes tell us that he’s doing well, but we have quantitative evidence to confirm this, too: his steroid injection requirement is reducing, with only seven needed this year versus eight last year and ten in 2022.
We are so fortunate to still have Catorze with us, and we can’t wait to see what he will unleash upon world next year, when he turns fifteen. And, despite being the most ungrateful and arrogant little sod ever to exist, we are pretty sure that he likes living with us, too.
Happy winter solstice to you all. Thank you for another year of supporting Catorze.
For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com
louiscatorze.com 
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