Every single time I was ready to take the boxed lady cat to the vet for examination, it rains; so I can only bring her out to see the vet today. She hasn’t been eating for the whole three days she has been with The Whiskers’ Syndicate so although she looks aloof and calm and relaxed (she starts to perk out of her box for some tuna) I am still worried so a vet advice is in demand immediately.
On my way home the corner of my eye got a glimpse of a white furry ball seemingly bobbing on the river. I thought at first it was a discarded toy, but my heart said something different, so I go back and take a look.
It was a teeny weeny kitten; struggling to climb out of the river. It was hot in the morning and the river dried out, so it probably went in for a drink, and can’t go back out.
I pick her up from the river’s wall, put her in my bag, and go home.
I brought my bag straight to the back yard, pull her out, scream, picked up about a ton of fleas from her emaciated body, give her a bath (smelled like a polluted river! yuck), let the hot sun dried her up…
She was trying to follow me as I go about cleaning back yard. Christine Stewart, that’s your cat tunnel by the lemon tree 🙂
As soon as she dried, I pick up another full container of fleas off her that I will be happy to send to ISIS
At home right away. She went around sniffing Rexie II (on the left hand), Sam (tuxedo) and Goldie (looking at camera). Then walk away like a champion.
Would you help me name her?