I am afraid that I have been somewhat absent from the pages of social media lately. This is due to circumstances beyond my control. Man Servant, who loyally takes my dictation for these publications, had to undergo some surgery the week before Christmas. Since then he has been somewhat preoccupied with other matters; primarily returning to full health.
When Man Servant returned home from hospital he did look a sorry sight. Ashen coloured, hardly able to walk and very very sleepy. So sleepy that I think he out slept me over his first few days home. In addition to these sufferings Man Servant had also come home with an extension to his body. He had a thin clear pipe leading out from his waist that was connected to a clear plastic bag. This was not very nice to look at as it contained blood of varying hues. At first Man Servant carried it like a handbag. After a few days he started to tuck the bag and as much of the pipework into his jogging bottoms. Anyone could see there was a contraption hidden in his clothes but at least we could not see its contents.
Following his return from hospital Man Servant had a daily visit from a lady servant in a blue uniform. This seems remarkably unfair as I have been in feline hospital, private of course, and when I have been discharged I have never had home visits.
Christmas Day was very quiet but that is alright as we like things quiet in Omar Towers. Lady and Man Servant stayed around home for the day. I was given a new toy full of drugs to play with. This one lasted just over an hour before I managed to break it open and eat the contents. The manufacturers just do not make things to last like they used to. On Boxing Day Lady Servant went out for lunch with trainer servant and another servant. Man Servant did not look too well and elected to stay at home. I think he was very wise as it would have been most off putting for other diners if his bag and pipe fell out of his clothes. I also think that he really did not look very well either. Instead we settled down to watch the racing from Kempton Park. Needless to say every horse I chose failed to oblige so I am much relieved I did not publish any racing selections that day.
One afternoon Man Servant was upstairs on the bed when lady servant in blue arrived. I also was lying on the bed. She opened a small package which was packed with scissors, bandages and various other bits that all looked very mysterious. As she put on her rubber gloves, which matched her uniform she looked down at me.
‘I’m afraid the cat will have to be moved before I can do anything. He is within the infection zone.’
How polite of her to suggest I was at risk of contracting an infection from her or Man Servant. I stretched out to my full draft extruder length and tried to return to sleep. I could feel the penetrating stare of the lady servant in blue penetrating my eyelids.
At this point Lady Servant entered the room and I must say was most unceremonious about the way she picked me up and bundled me out of the room. It was then that I realised that I was the infection risk. How rude of the lady servant in blue to even suggest that I could be a risk! And an itinerant servant at that!
My revenge on the servant species came later that night. I crawled into the servants’ bedroom and pulled myself up on to the bed. Man Servant was fast asleep on his back. The dreaded tube hung from under the covers and his bag hung on a drawer handle on his bedside cabinet. With stealth like qualities the special services would die for I worked my way on to Man Servant’s stomach exactly where his wounds were and the tube was attached. I watched him wince, grit his teeth and try to sit up and remove me. He couldn’t. He flumped back on to his pillows and winced a bit more. At this point I thought I had won but alas no. Man Servant turned on his side and of course as I am rather big, breed standard I hasten to add before anyone thinks I am obese, there was actually no-where comfortable for me to rest that would cause discomfort to Man Servant and I had to retreat to another position on the bed.
Today, Tuesday 27th December, Man Servant was visited by two lady servants in blue. They went straight upstairs where he and I were stretched out on the bed. Not wanting to be accused of being a potential source of infection I vacated the room and went downstairs to sit with Lady Servant. A few minutes later the two lady servants in blue came downstairs carrying a white plastic bag full of something. Presumably while they were upstairs they took the time and trouble to empty the waste bin in the office. After all, that is what servants are supposed to do. They were followed by Man Servant looking full of life and colour. He was wearing a pair of jeans and there were no bulges or pipes that I could see under his clothes. It only took me a couple of seconds to work out what was in the bag the lady servants in blue had brought down. They could have at least used a Waitrose bag.
That brings my diary up to date. Man Servant is recovering Lady Servant is coping and I am getting my three luxury meals a day plus random offerings of Dreamies so life is good. As Man Servant is making such good progress and as they say in some of the best circles when a person of class and distinction recovers from illness ‘There will be no further bulletins posted on the gates of Omar Towers.’