Il m’aime, il ne m’aime pas 

Ok, so this is a rubbish photo, and I knew it would be rubbish because the blinds were shut, but I had to post it because I was just so thrilled to get some love.

When I returned from work yesterday I had the pleasure of a welcome home greeting, then Louis Catorze spent all evening on my lap watching Hollyoaks on On Demand (we’re a high-brow, classy bunch here at Le Palais), and then we had bedtime cuddles. In fact, when I woke up in the very early hours and realised that Louis Catorze wasn’t with me, I called for him (this would definitely NOT have been allowed had Cat Daddy been home), he came running, making a huge amount of thuddy-thuddy noise for a small cat, and he stayed with me until my alarm this morning.

Now, sadly, it’s a different story. I loaded up his syringe before going to work this morning so that it would be ready when I got home. Despite being thicker than a concrete milkshake, HE KNOWS THIS and isn’t budging from La Cage Aux Folles. At some point I will have to drag his arse out and get him, which will wipe out the last 24 glorious hours in a flash, but such is life with a sickly cat.

The vet has told me that I can ditch the pills and start giving Louis Catorze liquid Piriton instead, and apparently the human version bought at the chemist is perfectly acceptable; I just need to wait until she has confirmed the dose. And I’ve booked him in for a blood allergy test on Monday. At least I will have zero difficulty getting him into La Cage.