Milo… growing up!

You will probably remember Milo. That adorable marmalade and white kitten who arrived unexpectedly just before Christmas?

Turned out to be a bit of a monster. Still adorable, of course. Very affectionate and all that, but still a monster.

There are times when we wonder if there can be such a thing as a cat with schizophrenia, as he does seem to have a split personality. He can leap from docile to demonic in seconds, and his temper has to be seen to be believed. He also has one hell of an appetite and has grown so much with no sign of stopping.

Milo had been desperate to go out for ages but had to wait until he was vaccinated and chipped. When we finally unlocked the cat flap, we thought he would sail through it, more than ready to explore. He had spent enough time looking out of windows, so his reluctance seemed odd.

We tried everything. We put his toys outside where he could see them. This didn’t work. He followed me everywhere, always hoping for food, so I went outside, expecting him to follow. Not a chance. Maybe he knew there was no food out there?

After a while, we gave him a little shove. We were getting a little desperate by then, as he still wanted to go out, but only if we opened the door.

He liked being outside, although he didn’t venture very far. When he had enough, he shot back through the flap like a bullet! To this day, he won’t go out through the flap but always comes back that way.

See what we mean? Milo is a very crazy cat. His temper is worrying us, though.

We first began to notice it in the mornings after our number one son leaves for work. Milo runs around the house like a ninja on speed, wrecking anything that gets in his way. We learned the hard way not to interfere or offer any condolences, to simply wait until he calmed down. I was badly bitten just by offering to console him, which hurt my pride somewhat.

His favourite pastime is trying to rip the roller blinds in the living room down. He can jump to reach the chains but also hangs on the bottom, managing to drag all the material from the roller. All carpets are his scratch pad, despite spraying them with a multitude of deterrents.

So you see, life with Milo is certainly different and not what we are used to. Well, mostly. When he is asleep or affectionate, he is lovely…

Jaye’s Disappointing Days… #Friday Thoughts

Friday Thoughts…

I think this year began badly for everyone, as we were still shell-shocked from all that had gone before.

I thought most of it had gone though, hadn’t it?

This was a brand new year. Time to get cracking and shake off the residue of misery and frustration.

It took nearly three months before something masquerading as enthusiasm turned up, but boy, was it welcome!

But…

There is always a but, isn’t there?

Once I started to enjoy being a writer again, my health slowly drifted to worryville. Various checks later, my heart has been pronounced strong and healthy. Blood tests have checked the rest of my bits, and they’re all fine.

So why do I feel so ill, breathless and tired? I have trouble doing anything, and it’s getting worse.

One last check, a chest X-ray. Surely this must give me some answers?

I had a mini meltdown at my doctor’s appointment earlier this week. I hate bothering the doctor almost as much as I hate feeling ill and hate asking for help. She kept me waiting a long time, and from the look of the usually calm and helpful doctor, she must have had one hell of a day. She looked much older, tired and exhausted. Probably didn’t need me and all my questions that day.

Communication was strained as I tried to convey my worries. She struggled to decide what to do, finally listening to my chest and agreeing that I needed an X-ray. At that point, I think she needed me to stand up, say thanks very much and walk away.

But I had one more question…

What happened next was like a slap around the face. I mentioned my poor swollen foot. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and said, ‘I suppose you want me to look at it?’

I stared at her, my temper and emotions arguing about what to do next.

Out of nowhere, I stood up and said, ‘No, I don’t think I do….’

She tried to backtrack at that point, apologising (I wasn’t sure what for), and then blamed me for having so many questions. Apparently, I had exceeded my allotted ten minutes!

When I left the surgery, I wasn’t quite sure whether I wanted to scream or cry. I did neither. I felt numb, vowing never to darken her door again. It took two days of sitting around, unable to concentrate on anything, before I started to feel normal again. At that point, I could have lain down on the road and died.

The X-ray is next Tuesday morning…