Last Wednesday, Mona, my mother, was 89 years old. The changes she has seen in her lifetime are immense! We took her and a dear friend of hers, Suzanne, to her favourite restaurant, The Ledbury. as soon as the staff realised it was her special occasion, a birthday (sugar tart & icecream) cake appeared with Happy 89th Birthday written around the rim of the plate. She felt very cherished.
We had a little drama last night. I realised that Magic must have been fighting again and suddenly had an enormously swollen cheek, so straight after dinner we whizzed him round to the emergency vet.
So we now have a very disgruntled little Magic, who is impersonating a daffodil. He must have said something rude to a big cat with mucky paws (Maybe: “Hey there, Mucky Paws! Puss off and clean up your act?”) and received a mucky smack in the face for his troubles. Anyway, it very quickly turned into an abscess, meaning he had to spend the night at the vet’s having a minor operation to sort it out and resulting in his having to wear a plastic collar for protection that makes him look like the proverbial little spring flower. We are not his favourite people at the moment. He holds us personally responsible for catnapping him and leaving him to the not-so-tender mercies of the Medivet Slasher.
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