The cat is losing her appetite. Since yesterday she has eaten a mouthful here and there. The result is a lot of leftover chicken bits.
Last night as I was washing up I saw a flash of fox streak across from outside my kitchen window. It ran one way and then the other. The cat used to run after a fox. A fox would sniff out my pot plants at the front of the house not realising that the door is half open and the cat is sitting on the mat.
The cat would immediately go into hunting stance. Then boom! Straight out and after the fox. The fox would startle, I would scream. The fox would stop running, turn around and realise this tiny puffed up ten times smaller than him/her is the creature he or she is running away from.
The fox would pounce. The cat would back away, turn and flee.
I'm running towards her ready to scoop her up to safety. The cat sees me, veers away, veers past my body and off away down the other end of the courtyard. The fox pursues, I follow screaming like a banshee on speed. The cat doubles back and veers in a semi circular movement past me again, across people's front lawns and dives through the opening of my front door. She doesn't stop until she gets to my bedroom.
Such shenanigans used to happen regularly this time last year. This time last year, she was just a cat. Now she has her own blog to count the days until...
I've decided to leave her leftovers outside by my garden pots. I hope the fox returns. I hope he or she likes chicken.
Tomorrow the cat has her next chemo session. No. 3 part 2.