1.30 am: Dusty goes outside, sniffs out interesting sniffs, disappears behind bushes and goes deaf to my reminders that he woke me up because he was desperate for a wee.
1.35 am: I struggle into the nearest pair of trainers which might be someone else’s size 13s, have a fruitless search for the torch, then go out to look for him in the pitch dark.
1.36 am: Dusty remembers why he woke me up and gets on with it.
4 am: It is time to wake up. Yes it is! It is! It really is! Dusty is so hungry. He won’t last another minute without food. I pretend to be asleep.
4.30: He starts looking for things to destroy. The sound of ripping or gnawing gets me up. I am awake enough this time to remember dressing gown and crocs and I head for the garden. Dusty stays in the kitchen looking up at where I keep his food while I wander round outside on my own. I tell him to stop taking the micky and I go to clean out Harley’s litter tray. Harley wakes up and wants breakfast. So I feed her and she sniffs it and says, “I don’t fancy chicken today.”
4.45 am: Dusty goes to sleep next to my desk while I play senseless games like Odd Socks and Angry Birds on Facebook. Harley paces up and down on the filing cupboards, throwing things on the floor because she wants some of the dry chicken treats I have in the filing cupboard because she really really fancies chicken today. Dusty doesn’t move until I feed him at 7. Somehow he has managed not to starve to death.
And so the day begins.
“You haven’t fed us for at least half an hour. We want food!”
“Yes, I was chewing the Alienware file, but I’m hungry and bored and I’ve only been out for two walks,”
“I am pretending to play with the smallest boy, but really I am chewing the end of the tablet cable and no one knows mwahahahaha. It wouldn’t happen if they fed me.”
“These magazines aren’t as tasty as I thought, but if they were to feed me I wouldn’t have to eat paper.”
9 pm: “So hungry. Can’t stay awake any longer.”
Not that I am complaining about them being keen on their food. Very glad they are.
His routine has varied somewhat over the last few days with more frequent wake up calls during the night due to his poorly tum.
Yesterday he started the day by falling off my bed and landing in a whimpering heap. Luckily we already had a vet appointment booked as now we had a limp to worry about as well as poorly tums. So no walks for him in case he’d damaged something.
Vet checked Harley and Dusty, listened to their tums, gave them a good feel and took their temperatures (which did not go down well with either of them). He didn’t see any point in sending off the poo samples I’d so diligently collected and gave them both a probiotic to take for three days.
Then he checked Dusty all over and said there was no sign of fractures. He watched him walk and said it was a soft tissue injury and he’d probably be all right by today. He’s still limping though, but better in himself and I’m encouraging him to rest, but it’s not easy!
We have to go back if things don’t settle down and perhaps take another sample – oh joy! So far so good – they both seem much better. I have a feeling we’ll be going back about his limp though.
As I wander round the garden in the early hours, I remember the mad old cat lady who used to live near us. The one that used to wander round in her nightie in the middle of the night and I am afraid – I am very afraid.