Honestly...I turn my back for a second...

Jack the cat has had a rather exciting week of it...he's been behaving oddly for the past 6 weeks or so; something I put down to the number of guests passing through 85 boulevard voltaire and him being of rather a sensitive nature. However, I had started to question even this diagnosis when he weed on my bed. I only realised when I snuggled down and felt something hot and damp by my feet. That resulted in a weekend of duvet, mattress and sheet washing and I was not too impressed. I couldn't work out what it was, decided to change his litter more often and left it at that.

On Monday night Sabrina called me in tears to tell me that Jack was dying. She'd been in Bordeaux over the weekend and returned on Sunday night to find Jack not moving from a lying position on the floor and not eating his food (this is cause enough for concern with Jack...). She called a vet friend of hers and decided to do something about in Monday. When she got back Monday night Jack was far worse and constantly miaowing...clearly in pain. She called the vet out who gassed jack straight away to knock him out and then promptly operated on the living room floor to remove kidney stones that had blocked his bladder (or something like that..I don't have all the details). She then inserted a catheter and said Jack would be right as rain by the morning but that it had been close...48 more hours and he would have been dead from blood poisoning.

The next day, sure enough, Jack was feeling much better but distinctly annoyed he was now wearing a collar that prevented him from inspecting his catheter, exiting the kitchen to his litter tray, eating easily and licking himself. One very grumpy cat. Sabrina was able to adjust for most of these things but she still has the thankless task of making him eat his antibiotics.

The largest problem is the catheter. It somehow keeps all his tubes open that will help the breakdown of the stones, but that means that his urine constantly dribbles out...with the blood of the kidney stone breaking down (are you still all with me?). But becuase he's feeling better, he wants to be off playing, and all this concoction travels with him. At the same time, he can't lick himself and it's very hot, so his hairs are tumbling everywhere and leaving an unholy smell and mess.

AND Sabrina has her leaving party on Saturday night, so while Jack is confined to easy-to-clean marble floors for the moment, on Saturday it looks like it will be the bathroom.

Hmm, at least someone will be very happy to see me back to help out...

And on Monday it's back to the vet to remove the catheter, so really, Nurse Sabrina has had the hard work and has been an absolute star. Am glad she loves him so much!

Here he is looking most forlorn, le pauvre.

Travel tired

My fisheries economics course in Portsmouth meant that previously booked flights had to be scrubbed, new train tickets bought, Fiona's young persons's railcard posted to me and a 10 hour journey up to Stirling in order to make it home for our pre-planned BBQ weekend. The sun came out, BT (Baby Tessa) was in fine spirits and it all turned into a marvellous weekend...until going home time.

I arrived at Stirling station in anticipation of catching the 1233 to Edinburgh, having left Church half way through and been dropped off by Christina on her way to get petrol. Turns out that 'advertised engineering works' meant that my 1233 train was now a 1205 bus, which I had been nowhere near close to catching. The next bus was the 1244, getting me in to Edinburgh at 1402. My connection to London left at 1400.

Scotrail claimed they had nothing to do with National Express who run the Edinburgh-London line and I'd have to sort it out with them. In Edinburgh, National Express told me they had nothing to do with Scotrail engineering works. I was forced to shell out 66 quid (it was that cheap thanks to the railcard) to complete my course.

I'm hoping that my writing skills will get me the money back. A couple of weeks ago, when I bought a silk shirt for a wedding and then promptly ripped it in the ceilidh dancing, I wrote to Zara enclosing deceased shirt and asking for a refund because 'one expects better quality from the good name of Zara' etc etc. Bit of a chancer but it worked...so hope springs eternal.

Architect of the year?

George at the OECD

Tomorrow, George W arrives at the OECD for a speech on foreign policy, to which 100 'special guests' i.e. sympathetic Americans, have been invited...including our 3-days-on-the-job STAGIAIRE! Someone's got CONNECTIONS!

The visit means that as of 7am this morning, no car has been parked in the cordoned-off area (about 3 blocks around the OECD), only badge-holders will be able to cross the lines tomorrow from 10am through one exit-entry point about half a mile from the OECD, all badge-holders will have to pass through metal detectors and an X-ray machine, and I won't be able to get to my lunch. From 2pm, there will be absolutely no movement within the cordon. Staff must keep all windows closed and keep well back from windows or face snipers.

The fact that the organisers sent this message only in French makes me wonder if this is their subtle way of picking off English-speaking OECD-ers who get a little bit too curious...

Summer in Paris