louiscatorze.com

I am not impressed with the males of the household. 

A couple of nights ago, despite my strict instructions not to do so, Cat Daddy let Louis Catorze out at The Front “because he loves it there, and it’s not fair not to let him enjoy his summer” (?).

(Cat Daddy used to say, “This might be his last summer” but, since Catorze has turned out to be more resilient than Michael Myers and could very well end up outliving the whole darned lot of us, he’s saying it much less often now.)

I don’t like Catorze being out at the front, for numerous reasons: he’s vulnerable to traffic and to marauding youths in the park, and he pisses off the neighbours by screaming outside their houses or creepy-staring through their windows, which upsets their dogs. Sometimes, Cat Daddy has forgotten that the little sod is out, so he’s been there all night. Cat Daddy knows all this. But he lets him out regardless. 

Anyway, I needed to do Catorze’s thyroid medication, so I went out at The Front to call him in. Most of the time, he’s pretty responsive when he’s called. However, this time there was no sign of him although, annoyingly, I could hear him thrashing around and muttering obscenities in the undergrowth that divides our garden and that of Family Next Door. BASTARD CAT WAS TAUNTING ME. 

I had no option but to take off the glove, ointment and all, and ask Cat Daddy to do it if and when Catorze returned. The next morning, I woke up to find Catorze indoors and the glove exactly where I had left it, on the kitchen worktop, with the drop of ointment still on its index finger. 

I usually manage to medicate Catorze before breakfast but, that morning, I failed to Act Normal enough and he was instantly suspicious. I tried to grab him but he wriggled out of my grasp, escaped out of the cat flap and nobody has seen him since. He is shunning both food and water in favour of remaining hidden, and not even Cat Daddy going outside and pretending to water the plants was successful in flushing him out from his hiding place. 

It’s been over twenty-four hours since Catorze’s last dose. I am dismayed beyond belief that an animal has managed to give us the slip. 

*EDIT: we found the little weasel in the end, sleeping at the bottom of the garden. (Cat Daddy: “He’s enjoying the shade. He’s a smart cat.”) I had to rinse off the glove and apply a new dose of ointment as the old one had dried up and gone all manky, but I FINALLY GOT HIM. 

For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com