Age is catching her up, however, in so much as she’s deaf as a scratch-post and has a tendency to shout. Yet, throughout the years there has been one true cat constant. Whenever we’ve gone to the vets and been met by a new face attached to a stethoscope they would say, “Are you aware she has a slight heart murmur?” Needless to say that after 18 years, and countless vets, we are. And as already stated it has certainly never hindered her.
In fact there has been very few health scares. There was one occasion when she was about eight months old. At that point we were living in a Hole in South-East London (I don’t exaggerate) and so kept her as an indoor cat. The big, bad outside world was full of terrors in the shape of cars, lorries and the pit-bull who lived upstairs. On returning home one evening I was greeted by my wife (then girlfriend) who informed me, with a look of panic on her face, that something was wrong with the cat!
A quick inspection of our first born (for so she was treated) showed that the mere slip of a thing had a distended stomach. Cat and I were dispatched with haste to the vets. This being a time when I was a fresh-faced would-be actor without the luxuries of later life (namely car or money) the trip entailed a long walk from Hole to bus stop, bus to town and walk over four pedestrian crossings to vets.
On arrival I gently lay her on the table, explained the problem to the vet and all but got down on my knees to plead for her life. The vet diligently looked her over and examined the offending bulge.
“Yes…", he said with a serious look. "She’s fat. Possibly needs to get out and exercise more.”
Embarrassment reigned.
“Are you aware she has a slight heart murmur?”
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