Humbug gets a post of his own

Humbug got used to vet-smell Leicester in time for a big reconciliation on Tuesday night, which was sweet but sad since Leicester had to go back to the vet first thing on Wednesday.  Hum was out when we left but since then he's been watching the empty cage, wandering round the house calling for Leicester, and snuggling apes.  He cheered up for some new catnip and this morning he's gone out to maintain Leicester's Outdoors empire.

Last night rain washed off the last of Leicester's territory markers so this morning we woke to a delegation of farm cats on the terrace like we haven't seen since the monkeycats were still shut indoors.  Even Graham, the shy grey and white cat (Graham White, geddit?) was there.  But they cleared off peaceably once we released the Bug.  A few minutes ago he brought me a mouse. Humbug brought me a mouse!  Not a stick or a sweet wrapper or a pheasant or a woodpigeon or a very disgruntled magpie but a perfectly ordinary mouse such as a cat might catch and bring home.  

So he can do all the normal cat stuff, but only if he really has to.  

Before I took Leicester to the vet, I followed the internet's advice and stroked both cats a lot with my hand in a sock. Apparently if I rub said sock over the vet-trip cat before bringing him back, he will smell more acceptable to his home-staying friends.  I'll let you know how it works.

ETA
Humbug just came in through the cat flap and went straight to the crate.  I swear he was looking to see if Leicester had come back while he was out.  Now he's lying next to the crate, waiting.  This is not one of his usual napping spots.  I think he suspects the crate may be a cat teleporter.

Methadone kitty

I've just been to visit Leicester.  He's doing well but can't come home yet, partly because he's still on a drip and partly because he still needs the strong painkillers.  However, he has peeed and purred and even washed.

I managed to coax him into eating a couple of his very favourite cat treats, but he wouldn't try anything else, not even cat milk.  He'll lick it off his face if I paint it on him and he gets all excited and leans over the bowl if I offer him some, but he won't actually drink.  This is why he needs to stay on the drip, which he hates.

He is off his head on methadone.  He can be quite focussed one minute, but then his pupils dilate like saucers and he's watching something that isn't there.

He's doing pretty well.  The cat in the cage next to him had the same op on Monday and is now off the drip and eating tuna, but only when his owner is there.  Humbug is being very snuggly.  I think he likes the Leicester smell on my clothes.