I took to putting Puss Puss Charlie’s food in the open cat
basket, his body was so long he could reach the back and still have his back legs
hanging out of the basket door. Soon he became accustomed to the restaurant
location that I dared to book him into the Vets for the following morning
having explained the predicament and that my plans may all go wrong, they were
fine with this. The dreaded day arrived, Harry was safely tucked away in his
room, the car seat was set back far enough to accommodate the cat basket on the
floor and my handbag was at the ready for a quick escape. Charlie was waiting at
the front door for his food, he trotted straight into the basket, I squeezed
his back-end in after him and secured the wire door: we had him! He was
surprisingly calm about it all, plenty of moans and whinges but no claws or
teeth and no fur flying. Not only had he been trapped inside the cat basket but
there was no food due to the impending castration, poor Charlie, what had he
walked into!
Later that afternoon I picked up a dozy Charlie cat, minus
his testicles, shorter claws and de-wormed. The kitchen was the best place for
him, he and Harry cat could eye each other up through the glass panelled door
and of course it was close to his beloved food cupboard. We made a cosy bed for
him under the table to recover and consider his escape.
