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Covid chatCovid-19 is not a nightclub or an aftershave as Gabes would have me believe. It is a coronavirus, and a very nasty one which really bad for hoomans. Unlike us cats who visit our vets once a year for our annual vaccinations, there is no jab, and even more worryingly, no cure for this virus. Gabion and I are worried about our hoomans.

So, we have to take care of our own hooman, who we have named Exec P.A to make sure she is looked after properly.

Gabion and I have discussed this at length at the buffet bar on the fireplace where our kibbles are served.

As the virus is caught by contact with other hoomans, we have ensured that our Exec P.A is now isolated. The padlock on the gate has been snapped shut, so that she cannot escape to go out socialising with other hoomans. There is enough food left over from Christmas lying around in the cupboards to keep her going. Christmas cake, Christmas pudding, a box of 'Eat-Me' dates, probably from last year, a box of boring biscuits she had as a present and some curried turkey is still nestling in the freezer.

We are sure that if she gets desperate a good clear out of cupboards and drawers will find all sorts of weird and wonderful foods and things she has bought over the year. Probably past their sell by date. If not mouldy, and they smell OK she has enough rations to keep her going. 

She will not starve.

The human catnip, she calls booze - the 6 extra bottles of red wine which she smuggled into Tom Cat Towers will soon be gone. Again, needs must when the devil drives. She’s brought back weird and wonderful booze from sunny far flung places while Gabion and I were enjoying luxury spa time in our favourite cattery. (We NEVER leave Exec P.A. alone in Tom Cat Towers when we go to the cattery). 

The booze tasted fabulous abroad, but once back in grim, grey, rainy, Blighty, it loses itsappeal and was consigned to the garage. Banana liquor, melon fizz, something peculiar with a dead worm in the bottle, a label with a drunken donkey on it, all sorts of peculiar concoctions. She has been threatening to throw this macabre collection out for years. Now it holds an almost desperate appeal, she has been in the garage polishing these bottles with a view to consuming them.

Toilet rolls. Now this is a very strange oddity. Instead of the garage, the rolls are now being stored under the bed in case someone sees them and nicks them. Hoomans do have some strange ideas about what is valuable!

I have a new responsibility. Exec P.A. has been washing her hands a lot more, especially after going outside or bringing things into the house. I am now in charge of the pump action hand moisturiser in the picture which is next to me when I sit on the arm of the chair with her to ensure I have a steady stream of Dreamies.

I'm sure if Gabion and I pull together we can ensure that Exec P.A will cope with 12 weeks of quarantine. We are both discussing protocols to help Exec P.A ride out Covid-19.

We will introduce a rota for morning cuddles, bath time chit chats and supervision in the kitchen. When watching TV, I will be in residence on the arm of the chair where we sit and watch something called a BoJo on TV who endlessly mentions Coronavirus. We no longer hear the word Brexit, so we think that the Brexit Bug is over or has mutated into Covid-19.

We hope that with the right care and attention our Exec P.A remain fit and healthy

I'll keep you posted.

Lord Reginald Desmond Vagabond of Tom Cat Towers

 

A Cats Prayer

Lead me down all the right paths,
Keep me from fleas, bees, and baths.
Let me in should it storm,
Keep me safe, fed, and warm.

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