Lil is going bald.

Lil is going bald. Another blood test this time on her leg. So that's her neck and her leg hairless. But she came home from the vet wearing a very natty style of bandage. The vet reckoned she would remove it herself with an hour. 24 hours later and it's still adorning her wrist.
Lil's promised when she's finished wearing it I can have it. It's long enough to wear round my head. A bandanna -a ginger bandanna with paw prints- just like the gangs. The ginger gang. The black paw boys. Oh yes I shall be well hard, man!
You lookin' at me? Know what I mean? Wicked in it? Slap the bitch up.

"Ferdinand?"
"Cripes. Yes oh striped one."
"Don't forget to write that Lil's gained weight."
"I'm doing that."
"And her heart rate has slowed?"
"Yes."
"What about the hemorrhaging in her eyes."
"Yes just about to write that: the bleeds are stopping and her sight may improve."

Ferdinand: gang leader!

The ten cat commandments on tablet taking.

Big Lil. Well the not so big Lil. The skinny Lil. The vet has phoned, -he has confirmed his diagnosis- has Hyperthyroidism.
She has to take two tablets a day. And then hopefully if she manages to regain some strength and some body weight she will be able to have an operation.

When Lil is awake I shall advise her on the art of taking pills.

The ten cat commandments on tablet taking.

1. Never 'just' take a pill even though you know it will make you better.
2. Scream blue murder if an attempt is made to force a pill through clamped jaws, then shake, roll your eyes, hide for 12 hours (somewhere warm and cosy like the back of the wardrobe on Martin’s cashmere jumper.) and then don’t turn up for tea.
3. Make out that the human being is no longer your best friend; allow no cuddles and/or ear rubs.
4. The objective of the above is treats and the self-sacrifice will be worth it in the end. (No pain no gain.)
5. Treats. The pill is going to be ‘hidden’ in some wonderful tempting morsel. You have to act you don’t know this!
6. Don’t gobble the morsel straight away. Locate the tablet.
7. Hide tablet under tongue.
8. At the moment you’re told how good you’ve been (the timing is very important because the human being must be led to believe that it nearly worked and will want to try again) spit it out.
9. This therefore will be repeated and instead of just one tasty titbit there will be two.
10. And finally take tablet because you do want to get better.

You may be given another treat as a reward for good behaviour -or the said human is feeling rotten and or guilty and this helps them feel better.- A win win situation. You get treats, take the medication to improve your health and have assisted your human being to feel good about themselves. We cats are just too altruistic. But...

A word of caution: I advise only at aiming for a maximum of three treats with pill spitting after that the human being is likely to give up and the jaw clamping and force feeding will begin in earnest and the option of treats will be withdrawn!

Ferdinand: More than just an ism.

Ism in cats 589,000 entries.

Lil’s asleep on the sofa...

A man she said, slit her throat and sexual assaulted her with a thermometer. Just wait I’ll get my paws on him, beast, pervert.

“Lilly has an ism.”
“An ism?”
“Oh no. Blimey.. Not an ism, An ism. Tell me it isn’t an ism."
“That’s what she said an ism."
"Lil’s got an ism, An ism. Oh no. An ism...."



"That man is going to phone Susan later to confirm his diagnosis...
Then we’ll know whether she definitely has an ism or not."
"Hope it’s not."
"What ?"
"Hope it’s not an ism."
"Me too."

"Ferd what is an ism?"
"Well it’s er um thingy, disease sort of thingy."
"Oh right , I see. "

"How do you spell ism?"
"I.S.M.
I’m going to google it. Just to make sure we’re talking about the same ism as that veterinary's ism."
"Good idea..."


Um! Ism in cats 589,000 entries.

Entry no: 589,000: Gosh
Entry no: 588,999: Oh no
Entry no: 588,998: Oh that’s not true.
Entry no: 588,997: Oh poor Lil
Entry no: 588,996: Oh my goodness
Entry no: 588,995: Er disgusting
Entry no: 588,994: Humph
Entry no: 588,993:......
Entry no: 588,996:......

Ferdinand: Googling an ism

Big Lil

"While we wait I'm going to paste a picture of Lil on our newspaper."
"Good idea Doll. I'll let you know if I see anything."

"Found one yet."
"Loads just gotta' choose the right one. Well there's the back of the sofa shot, on the sofa picture, upside down on the sofa..."
"Sofa shot it is then."
"This one just after Christmas she did enjoy singing bohemian rhapsody."
"Does! Doll. Does enjoy singing..."

Lilly: is a good singer.

Auditioning for a role in this drama...

Dolly was shouting. Her cries wakened me from the light nap I was taking on the conservatory roof.

The basket was gone and with the basket Lil, Susan too.

The door to the hall that led to the front of the house was closed and I met Dolly trying to force the handle; she wasn’t heavy or strong enough.

“Stand aside Doll”
I leapt at the handle. I misjudged, my own strength... the door swung open and crashed into the bookshelf scattering paperbacks and cd’s on impact. While I clung to the handle Dolly dived through the rapidly diminishing gap. I managed just to scramble though before the door slammed shut. Unfortunately my leg caught on a light flex...

We; Dolly, me and the table lamp –it’s wire twined round my rear end, clinging to me as if it urgently needed to throw light on the subject - bounded upstairs.

The office door was ajar just a gentle shove would open it. But it, as if auditioning for a role in this drama responded so violently to Doll’s nudge it bashed against a stack of files (stupid place to leave office work –always thought so.) invoices and receipts exploded upwards and then downwards; a ticker tape parade.

Dolly dived onto the office chair. The chair with the castors. I sprung to join her and we three skateboarders shot across the office floor until we came to an abrupt end at our intended destination the window.

Who cares the computers were in he way. Not us. No. We were on a mission.
A car was revving outside. The blind was down.

Dolly yanked the cord and the blind did 20 revolutions flapping angrily against the glass

We were in time to see the car with it’s precious cargo negotiate the curve in the road and vanish from our sight.

“Lil.”
“Lil.”
“She’s gone Ferd. Lil’s gone. Ferd. I hate Susan. ”

“Ferd?”

“Dolly. Doll we better...”


“What?”
“Doll we better...”
“Ferd what? What?”
“Doll I don’t know... “
“What?”

“Doll I’m going to wait here.”
“Not going to pretend you were somewhere else? And it was some being with stripes that made this mess”
“No. Doll you go down, I’ll let you know if I see anything.”
“Ferd?”

“Ferd!”
“Yes.”
“I... Would it be ok if I just sat here by your side?”


“Yes Doll, it will be ok.”

Ferd: waiting for a friend. And Dolly: waiting with Ferdinand for her fellow inmate of Bath cats and dogs home.

I wonder who’s comforting who in that embrace?

I had my suit ready. My Elvis suit. It was a party to celebrate Elvis’ life. A party only for cool cats. I looked fantastic, practiced my jive and the swivel hips motion. But I didn’t go.

Lil went into the garden accompanied by me and then Dolly this afternoon and Lil’s back legs gave way. But Lil she just got up and toddled off as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

The cat basket has been taken down from the attic. It looms in the living room it’s wire cage door hanging open. There is a towel in the bottom of it and a cushion. Dolly has been trying to destroy it. Clawing at the woven wicker and biting the broken bits. I told her it wouldn’t do any good. There’s another basket in the loft. And if that was to be ruined too there’s always a cardboard cat box...

Friday evening. Coronation Street is being watched. Big Lil is snuggled into Susan’s side on the sofa. Dolly is in the garden with the catnip. I can see all this from my vantage point in the conservatory. Susan is crying and Dolly’s as high as a kite but chews on. I feel angry. I’m impotent. I can’t do anything to make this better...

Big Lil is losing weight, a bag of bones. Susan has noticed. I’ve been reading her diary. She’s frightened of taking Lil to the vet she scribbles -doesn’t want to know the answer. Doesn’t want the diagnosis and then the prognosis.

Big Lil leans closer to Susan and pats her arm with her paw. I wonder who’s comforting who in that embrace?

Ferdinand: I don’t cry.

Ferdinand: Lying to a good friend.

“Hello Lil, how you bin?”
“Lil, how’ve you been?”
“Ferd? is that you Ferd?”
“Lil it is I. None other than the handsome ginger fur ball.”
“Ferd if that’s you would you come closer?”
“Oh yes! I knew you couldn’t resist my gingery essence forever. Quick cuddle on the back of the sofa? More than happy to oblige.”
“Lil have you been dieting?”
“The trouble I’ve had... Cat napped! Falsely arrested, imprisoned and convicted. My sentence capital. My crime: mangy ginger tomcat. I faced with valour the blue syringe. But fate played her hand and sinking my teeth into it I skidaddled out of that cell faster than a cheetah on steroids –bloomin’ blue shirted jobs worth. God it’s nice to be home.”

“Ferd it is you?”
“Lil why you whispering?”

“Lil why are you whispering?”
“Ferd. You know I went deaf?”
“Yes me old girl.”
“Ferd?”
“Yes Lil.”
“Ferd I’m losing my sight.”




“Ferd?”
“I’m here Lil.”
“Ferd I’m frightened. I know Susan loves me but she won’t want me blind and deaf!?”

“Ferd?”

“Lil no, you’ll be ok.”
“What?”
“Lil, ok we have a problem.”
“Ferd?”
“I’m here Lil, touch my paw. Let me think...”


“Ok so three out of five ain’t bad!”
“What?”
You have five senses. You can feel, smell and you can taste.
So we...”
“Yes Ferd?”
“Just let me think....”

“Ok you can still hear a bit?”
“I said you can still hear some things?”
“Yes Ferd.”
“Right here’s what we do.”
“If you need to go out, sing.”
“Sing what?”
“I don’t know, sing anything.”
“How’s it go?”
“Ok sing raindrops, RE: FALLING ON MY HEAD.”
“Not anything? Well that’s good really ‘cos I don’t know the words.”
“Ok, that’s the hygiene taken care of. If you want to eat...”

“Ok what I’ll do is wave food under your nose then you can follow me to the kitchen.”
“How?”
“I’ll put the tip of my tail near your nose and you follow it when I wave it to the left it means you have to jump down, to the right jump up.”
“Ferd, if Susan find’s out she’ll kill me.”
“She’s not going to find out.”
“Ferd you’re not always here.”
“Dolly will help.”
“Dolly!”
“Dolly is under that snobby stripey exterior a sensitive caring individual."
"Lil?”
“Yes Ferd?”
“Trust me.”
“I do. Ferd.”
“We’ll get this sorted. You have my word.”


Ferdinand: Lying to a good friend.