THE VANISHING MOTH

My son's cat Moth,having been booked in to the vet's to be neutered,jumped out of an upstairs window the night before the op,this as I mentioned before cause the postponement of her operation until next Tuesday. Old Robbie Burns with his “best laid plans”hit the nail on the head in this case for the little madam,has,in spite of being on the pill,come in to season and is refusing to come back in doors.

Instead she is prowling the grounds advertising her condition to every randy Tom cat in the Parish. This unexpected turn of events has caused considerable trouble,initially we were worried that she had run away but it soon became apparent that she was simply out on the town!

Nature will always find a way and Moth seems determined to have a litter of kittens, we only hope that if she does there will not be the same problems as before. She is such a tiny cat, it seems likely that she will again have difficulty giving birth.

We have one small glimmer of hope,Harry. Harry is our neighbours ginger Tom cat and a constant visitor to our house and gardens. He has claimed territorial rights over our house,our gardens and,it seems our cats. He has made such a fine job of scent marking every blade of grass, gate and fence post on the place that we have not seen another Tom cat in months.

The other encouraging fact is that he has been neutered,so although still capable of mating his is,as it were, firing blanks!

We shall hope for the best, and give Harry as much encouragement as possible,easy enough as he is such a likeable rogue,in the mean time ,what will be ,will be.

Sales of my sons books are still exceeding all projected figures and he is,of course very happy about it,yet such is his modesty that he keeps expecting sales to tale off. I would wager that with the second book out and five star revues still coming in that will not happen for quite some time.

A good friend told me today that she has just discovered that her mother has terminal cancer and has not long to live. With my recent concern for my own mother still rife in my mind I could not help but wonder what or who decides which one lives and which does not.

My grateful thanks to which ever of the Gods decided that my mother should be spared this time.