A Bad Case Of The Sniffles

Sniffles is alive, we’re just not quite sure how. He’s never been sane, but his odd behaviour is becoming more bizarre by the week. And he knows how to cause maximum inconvenience.

He hasn’t managed to get onto the kitchen table for ages, but once the jigsaw case is upon the table, and the jigsaw had been started, then as if by magic, there he is. On the jigsaw case at every opportunity using it as a bed. The pouffe in the living room no longer good enough for him.

The damn fool cat had also taken to scaring me to death at regular intervals with his complete lack of road sense. In the last week alone, he has appeared from nowhere and run out in front of the car as I’m driving along the close. I’ve had to slam the brakes on to avoid running him over as he then just flops into the middle of the road and proceeds to wash himself.

Thinking of this, I have been calculating it out. If he does this twice a week to me, and there are at least forty other cars on the close, plus the seemingly never-ending swarm of delivery drivers, then it would mean he runs the danger of being squished by a vehicle on the close somewhere in the region of a hundred times a week.

He has been limping recently and only gingerly using his rear right paw and leg, and it does look to be at a funny angle (count = 1). Even if the vets have said there is nothing wrong with him (yet they gave us painkillers for him anyway), it does seem highly likely that the little shit has managed to get hit by one of the vehicles he has run in front of.

Plus, he has the brain the size of a pea. He will lounge around inside all day, pretending he wants some food, only to watch us put food in his bowl and then still sit there looking at the bowl or wandering off in the opposite direction. Yet if you slide him over to the bowl, he will eat it. And then he’ll decide that when we are off to bed it’s time to go outside. In the dark, in the cold, in the rain, he just has to go out at that time. I’m sure it’s only so he can miaow the house down at three or four in the morning to be let back in. Always with lots of leaves stuck to him that he can then deposit around the house.

Granted this is a step up on bringing a wet muddy bike through the house a few minutes after I’ve hoovered.

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