I Feel Awful

See previous post.

When I got up yesterday morning, I did what I always do – I threw the top half of the duvet off and left it there to let the bed air. I didn’t do what I always don’t, ie make the bed, so the duvet was still folded back on itself at bedtime. When I pulled it back into place, I saw two large patches of blood. Poor Pete had obviously come in from his scrap with a bleeding ear, meowed at me for help, was told to shush, so parked himself on the bed and bled onto the duvet. The wee scone had obviously bled for some time, and I was oblivious in the dark. And as he spent nobody knows how long as a streetfighting stray, he’s used to being ignored when he’s injured in a fight. I feel like I’ve let him down. I should have got up to see what was going on when he was clattering in and out of the catflap for two hours. I should have made the bed in the morning and noticed earlier.

So, on top of £16 in taxi fares and £44 in vet bills, I’ve also had a £17 bill for getting the duvet laundered. Tomorrow, he’s getting a paper round!

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