Me back home catching up on the news after the vet gave me a couple of jabs
The man servant’s travels around the UK have finished for a while so he is now available to take dictation from me and get the diary going again.
Both my servants went shopping today. I think they have bought me a Christmas present as they let slip over coffee earlier today that they had been to the local pet shop. They don’t buy any kibble there as they tend to get it from the supermarkets they use or farm supply shops when they are buying bits and pieces for the horses. So, if they have been to a pet shop it must be for something for me for Christmas.
What they did mention that they noticed was that in the pet shop there was a collecting bin for pet food to give to a local dog rescue charity near the till and it was overflowing with bags and tins of foods. I was rescued from the streets of Bournemouth by a cat charity that kept me warm and fed till I came to live with my servants. I appreciate how important these types of donations are to these charities.
The servants also mentioned that in the supermarket where they did servant type shopping there was a bin for collecting food for a local food bank. They both remarked that it was nowhere as full as the one in the pet shop. The lady servant thought it was a reflection of how their own society prioritised charity. My man servant suggested that the bin had already overflowed, had been emptied once already and was refilling again. He said that but I really don’t think he believed what he was trying to tell lady servant and himself.
A couple of nights ago while the servants were sleeping I crept out have a look at the night sky. On my way back in the neighbour’s bruiser of a cat had a crack at me and hurt my tail. The servants did not know about this until they came home from shopping this afternoon. Man servant picked me up and my tail got caught under his arm. OUCH! It really hurt and I had to let him know the only way I could.
At six this evening I was at the vets in Fordingbridge and after being felt, poked and prodded the vet found that I had an abscess about half way along my tail; exactly where that big b£%t£rd Oscar from next door caught me with his claw as I was crawling through the cat flap. Two jabs later I am feeling a lot better thank you and have to go back again in four days for a further check-up. There will be bulletins posted at the gates of Omar Towers to let the public and press know about my condition.
Another bill for my servants to pay as top cats like me can only have private health.
My servants and the other people in the UK are entitled to public health if they have anything wrong with them which is free at the point of delivery. Both of them had something worrying them, nothing serious so please don’t fuss with get well cards and wishes which if you are going to send, send them to me.
Where was I? Oh yes, I remember. They tried to get treatment with the public health service but could not be seen by a doctor for at least a week and the surgery told the man servant they could no longer carry out the ever so minor procedure he needed. I will bet they blamed something like EU regulations.
The servants phoned a private doctor service. Had an appointment during their lunch breaks earlier this week. The man servant’s problem was fixed in less than a minute. Lady servant got an immediate diagnosis and recommended course of action. From what I understand they both had to pay the same each as my treatment earlier cost even though they have already paid through taxation or some other method to get free health care at their local surgery or hospital.
This difference in arrangements between felines and their servants for healthcare strikes me as a bit odd.