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  • So I had this writhing ball of needles in my arms, half-wrapped in a towel and tangled in a floor length curtain, smeared with shit and piss, and a hire car driver beeping his horn outside. I thought I was going to have to tear the fucking curtain off the wall to get the cat in the carrier

    sorry I know it's not funny but this had me wiping tears from my eyes

  • I mean, it is funny. It just wasn't at the time!

    Another time he came home from getting some teeth extracted and I opened his carrier in the living room and went through to the kitchen to sort out his dinner. I came back to the living room minutes later to see how he was doing, and he was gone. Totally vanished. Searched the flat four times, no sign of cat. A horrible thought began to dawn about where he might be, even though I'd blocked the access to it...

    So I got a lamp and checked up the chimney in the bedroom, and sure enough, he's sitting up inside the flue, eyes like saucers, absolutely off his tits on painkillers. He hid up there for three hours while I lay on the floor waving a Waitrose line caught prime cod loin at him, begging him to come back down.

    Then he spent the next 24 hours alternating between wandering around in a drug-addled haze and trying to bust through the additional cardboard I taped in front of the fireplace. Everything in my flat was filthy, especially him.


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