Second Post

I have no idea what’s going on. Writing blogs used to be easy.

Now it’s Saturday night and a day has passed. There’s a southerly gale blowing outside and I’m sitting here snacking on black olives and anthotiro cheese and drinking the last of the raki. I’m running late because I wasted a lot of time trying to convince Zorro to eat. He licked at the Rokus I put out for him and turned up his nose. I replaced it with tinned tuna; he barely looked at it before walking away, into the living room, where he hid under a chair. I’ve had the feeling for some time now that there’s something wrong with him. He keeps doing strange things with his mouth, which makes me think it must be causing him pain somehow. It’s a bit of a worry, with my tenure here ending and the new people arriving on Monday. I had hoped that Zorro would survive until Rob and Nanda returned in the middle of March. Perhaps I’m asking for too much.

Anyway, I thought I should try and get to the bottom of things. I therefore grabbed Zorro from under the chair – no mean feat – and carried him back into the kitchen and put him down in front of the tuna. He had the briefest of sniffs, then looked away in disdain. I could have strangled him there and then, but, remembering he was not my cat and my job was to be sympathetic, I tried a milder approach.

I poured some milk into a bowl. He stuck his face into it and began lapping it up. The next thing I knew, the bowl was clean. Taking this as a sign I poured out more milk, which he dealt with in a similar fashion. Well, I thought, at least he’s getting his vitamins in, though anyone who knows anything will be aware that, in spite of the cliches, dairy is not good for cats.

I proceeded to grab him by the scruff and, using my other hand, forced him to open his mouth.