Our furry children had a checkup back in July, and unsurprisingly the boy needed his teeth looking at. Considering his sister is now toothless, he got away a little more lightly, he still has a few teeth, just not many.

Discussions with the vet at the checkup said that we should look at it “between now and Christmas”, so we took him in at 9 last Thursday. A few checks and we left our chomky 6.1kg boy behind.

His sister wasn’t happy, even when she did get her breakfast (late, when we got back), clearly wondering where he was.

We collected him late afternoon, looking very slightly wobbly, and he came home, had some food, and settled down for a nap, later that night snoozing in his mom’s arms.

His recovery went well, and today we took him back for a checkup, and all was well, except perhaps for the waiting room experience: a few people with very noisy, uncontrolled dogs were stressing us and the boy- why, FFS, would you seat yourself and a noisy, barely controlled dog next to a couple with a cat carrier in an otherwise empty room?, so my dear better half took the boy outside while we waited. When we were called in, the poor lad didn’t want to come out of the carrier, but once out he was checked over and given a clean bill of health. Back home to his food and cat bed 🙂

We did our winter sun thing again, and again, like last time going wasn’t a certainty, but go we did, with a hefty additional sum to the travel insurance people and some help from assisted travel- more of that soon.

The journey out was delayed at take-off and featured an aborted landing attempt, but eventually we found ourselves at our hotel in Playa Blanca.

We’ve visited the resort twice before (well, in fact my better half has been one more time on top of that), so it was quite familiar stuff, even if negotiating the Marina’s nooks and crannies is challenging in the dark. Still, we found food and drink.

Of the assisted travel: my mobility isn’t great and hasn’t been for some time, and last year was very hard work at security at BHX, even using the express lane. My other half has recently had health issues too, and the recent security changes, best described as “a shitshow”, meant that we asked for help.

In practice this worked well enough, but like everything else at BHX, had an air of disorganisation, chaos, and “this is too complex”. Honestly- just how does BHX manage to be this shit? Areciffe airport was maybe a little chaotic, but by comparison, worked like a well-oiled machine.

Anyway, back to Playa Blanca.

We found cats. No great challenge, and between the tourists and the locals that know the tourists, the cats are cared for: the seafront area features multiple cat houses/feeding stations.

One of us cuddled a kitten, that’s how used to people the cats are:

There’s not just cats, of course. An impressive promenade, bars, restaurants, shops if that’s your thing.

We walked a little, slooowly, and much less that in 2008 (and a bit less than 2019, I think). One of us chose to go flying behind a boat (clue: that wasn’t me), we swam a bit.

There were a few pubs.

When I woke up on April 4 thoroughly fed up and still in pain from digging one cat grave, I really wasn’t expecting to have to repeat the experience so soon.

I’d got up for work as usual, and was wearily dealing with whatever the day was throwing my way. My dear better half got up:

“have you seen Kitty?”

Well, I hadn’t. This was unusual, there was an established routine of cat treats in the morning before both cats found somewhwere to snooze. Off for a search of the likely spots: the cupboard over the stairs, inside wardrobes, under the beds.

Which is where I found her, unmoving and stiff.

So the garden gets dug up again, and our remaining baby is put to rest next to her brother (and near to Meowth).

Sleep well baby. We gave you both a good life and you were taken too soon.

I came home this morning (just about this morning) to QT apparently snoozing on a chair: the friend I was with peeked under the blind before continuing home and remarked on him comfortably asleep.

Except he wasn’t. I didn’t notice until he didn’t move for Dreamies.

As the same friend said: “He lived like a king”, which is pretty accurate: in comfort, waited upon, and indulged. It’s never easy saying goodbye to a loved pet, but it’s an inescapable fact that we will have to, and it’s the price we pay for their companionship, and all we can wish for is that we gave them a good life, which I’m certain we did.

Sleep well, lad.

Things started to look not right on Sunday: QT McWhiskers, my boy cat, walked away leaving tuna uneaten. After this epsiode, both cats have successfully convinced me that it is their birthright to have tuna every day, and, given the chance, QT will happily guzzle it all.

on Monday, we were more concerned. QT is lazy, so a certain amount of not moving and sleeping on a bed is normal, especially as he’s now getting on, but a whole night and following day of not moving, not coming for Dreamies, and generally looking miserable convinced us something was wrong, so first thing on Tuesday, the vets were called and he got booked in.

In the meantime, my dear better half noticed what looked like blood around his neck, and all was revealed when we got to the vets (after an unfortunate cat piss on the bed incident, fortunately caught quickly, so only a duvet had to get thrown) and the boy has a large abscess on his neck, where I’d thought I’d seen a bit of swelling and then discounted as just fur- which has expanded overnight. He’s got a temperature too, so this is obviously making him feel off.

Antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs later, we get him back home, and now, by evening he’s a bit more lively. No idea what happened, I can only guess a fight.