Come on then, let’s get this over and done with

So yesterday saw the start of our road to fitness for the big move. Unfortunately Scooby (my 14 year old black male cat) faired the worst. He had to spend the day in the vets on a drip to sort out a kidney infection which may have developed from the cystitis he had a couple of weeks back (Cats? Cystitis? Who knew?). The vet decided that this wasn’t enough suffering so also took the opportunity to remove 11 of Scooby’s teeth. The poor love was none too happy to see me when I collected him but, hey, on the upside, at least he couldn’t bite me.

Mind you, Munch (my 15 year old tortoiseshell female cat) didn’t fair that much better having to have 3 teeth removed. She also had to have her jabs while sedated as during our last visit to the vet for a general check up she became possessed with the devil himself and could we get her to stay still? No. Could we give her an injection? No. Could we get her back in her carrier? Hell yeah, no problem at all. So I will be taking the extra £50 it cost me to have her sedated to allow for the check-up, injections and micro-chipping out of her treat money.

Of course, all this followed the trauma of trying to explain to two cats, at 6am, why on earth they weren’t getting any breakfast. Sorry guys, vet’s orders. Suffice to say that I didn’t get a lie in that morning.

Now I’ve just got the fun of giving them antibiotics with their food every day for the next week or two. Not an easy task when they are on different meds and with Munch basically being a hoover who will eat anything I wouldn’t be surprised if I find her completely passed out from a overdose at some point!

However, I’m glad to say, nearly 24 hours later, that they are both doing well and both have forgiven me and honour me with their presence under the duvet at night as usual. And the good news is that the vet has told me there should be absolutely no reason whatsoever, despite their ages, that they shouldn’t be able to come to Turkey with me. Yay

But the suffering didn’t end with them. I decided to join the gym again after a 2 week (oh ok 5 month) break. Jeez, I think I creaked more than Norman Bates mom’s rocking chair and boy am I aching today. I’m also ending my greatest, longest and most successful love affair(s). Sorry, Cadbury Chocolate Fingers, we can no longer be together and, damn you Custard Creams, stop jumping into my basket whenever I go shopping. But I have to be strong, I have to do this if I want to bare my flesh and get an even tan without the Turkish coastguard being called out to a number of suspected beached whale sightings.

Anyway, I’m off now to stock up on bread and baked beans as this is about all I can afford this month after a £600 vet bill. Ouch.
Until next time…

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