The Cat. Round 11

While I was busy teaching last week, Bob decided to take Munchkin in to see the vet and to get his furry mats taken care of. You may remember we've been expecting Munch to leave us for the kitty version of Narnia -- further up and further in -- any time now.

Evidently not.

The vet was delighted to report that Munch has gained nearly a pound since Bob took him in last June when we were SURE he was going to the Elysian Fields. She's sure it was the Vitamin B-12 shot.

I think it was his peverse nature and the fact that he has not nine lives, but at least eleven.

Bob's and my morning conversation usually goes something like this:

Me: So, where is cat?
Bob: He went out about 3:00 am. He got me up at 1:00 to have a snack, but wouldn't go out then. He got me up at 3:00 at which point I ushered him out.

Munch generally gets Bob up twice a night. He jumps on the bed and pats his face -- or jumps on his back until he gets a response.

Remembering all the nights of getting up with nursing babies I just smile.

Poetic justice.

But just in case, the vet gave him another B-12 injection....

He oughta be good for three or four more lives.