cATHEAD'S cRANKY wORLD

Yowwww! Long time no post Cathead fans - or those of you still blogging after all this time.... little furry me has been utmost buzzy bee along with keeper, in paying frequent visitations to the local hospital in order to check-up on our mutual friend Bloaterchops, whom some of you may remember was last espied being winched out of an upstairs window of his rancid Norbury hovel, having succumbed to a mystery illness ( no doubt connected to his 32 stone of weight in a 5' 7" frame.)

Well, it took some time and some doing I can tell you. Cathead all along being smuggled into the ward time and again by co9mpassionate keeper who, it has to be said, is a saint in disguise. For even when other people who he helps reject him, still he continues to uplift and support despite his inner pain of crucifixion as all genuine spiritual folk must endure in this horrid world of devious using humans.

at any rate, only a fortnight ago, he again smuggled me under his jacket into the disinfectant-smelly ward 10, to again witness the lump of an outline languishing beneath the sheets of his sagging single bed.
The end-of-bed clipboards told of a steady decline in all bodily functions to the point where Cathead extrapolated the big man's demise within another fortnight ( and thats too weak).

So, something had to be done if ever I was to pad into his culinary junk yard of a kitchen, to be fed scraps of lard and juicy cockroach-ridden offcuts from last weeks ham on a mould-encrusted old spoon.

There Bloaterchops was, laying semiconscious on a drip feed, face up and snoring. Dishevelled with stubble and wild hair decorating the pillow. I knew there was no way out for him unless....
.... I instinctively sprung from my cache of keepers warm inside jacket and down down onto BC's exposed chest. There I landed and sunk my still sharp claws into his rib cage. As I did so I let out the same awe-inspiring cat screech that had wrought that vet Doctor's ultimate demise, a few posts back.

At this old Bloa\tewrchops' eyes went wixde open and he startled awake and shouted and sat bolt upright in his NHS bed, all in one go.

The energy my dramatic intervention had wrought was nothing short of catmiraculous. For the out-for-the-count BC was suddenly out of bed and on his feet, snapping the feed tube and dancing around the ward in some kind of warpath frenzy....dancing...laughing like he had no cares in the world.

So much so that the junior doctors came rushing in and sedated BC with a big short of horse tranquilizere for his sheer bulk...and then keeper and I left.

A week later Bloaterchops was discharged, fed watered and washed - a new man!

Keeper took this digicam of him all back up and running again, all thanks to the hidden psychic healing powers of little white soxs me,

I tells you the honest truth,

yours
CATHEAD