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Ok...so how many teeth will you have at 112?
I don't think I have ever formally introduced Poppy, so loyal readers, this is Poppy. Poppy meet my loyal readers.
Formalities over I will furnish you with a little Poppy history.
Poppy was a rescue cat. On a dark October night in 1988 I visited the Cats Protection League in Manchester on the hunt for a kitten. I already had 'gemmak' and wanted a friend for her. They never did become friends but after much vying for superiority they did at least learn to tolerate each other!
Poppy was huddled in a rabbit hutch, both her ears held flat to her head, making meowing actions but emitting no sound. The proprietor of the establishment told me she was too ill to be of interest, she had no idea what was wrong with her but she thought it likely she would be put to sleep the following day.
Hmmmmm....I thought not!! I made a good case for taking her home with me and 15 minutes later left with 'nameless kitten' huddled in my jacket. The CPL are not normally given to allowing this sort of kidnap but I was known to this branch and I figure they felt if I was prepared to make the effort, then it was worth a try.
'Mother' and kitten hot-footed it to the vets, where it was decided that what ailed her was unknown, she was given antibiotics and I took her home. For two days she rallied and did kitten things, she played and she aggravated the life out of an un-amused gemmak..... but suddenly on her 3rd night she became desperately ill. I won't bore you with the day to day detail, suffice to say she stopped eating, became incontinent, dehydrated and extremely underweight. The vet ran all the tests known to him could and could draw no conclusion.

Just a beginner
Late one very cold and frosty night she appeared to have given up the struggle and myself and a friend took her to the surgery, heavy hearted, to be put to sleep on the advice of the now much involved vet. Upon arrival she came too and began to take some slight interest in what was going on. The vet put it down to the cold night air, gave her some drugs and said it was worth trying again, given she had shown further fight.
Home we went with instructions yet again, to feed her a saline solution through a syringe every half hour and to keep her body temperature up. My husband of the time, a fireman, worked shifts and so my friend stayed for a few nights and we took it in turns to stay awake and administer the saline. It was a cold house and at night all we could do to keep her temperature up was put her in bed with one or other of us. I of course could not sleep for fear of rolling over and squashing her.
Tests had returned to the vets from a veterinary hospital indicating a massive and unusual infection and different drugs where prescribed. The vet was wonderful, I was far from well off but he deemed that given the efforts we had made he would charge me only for the cost price of the drugs for what was to become a long course of medication. It did however still cost me in excess of £500.
Very gradually her strength returned. My husband had read somewhere that cats hate being dirty and while I was at work bathed her gently and dried her............I came home to a new cat! Still poorly but clean, tidy and trotting about carefully, obviously over the moon at feeling sweet smelling and presentable.
And that was that, she made steady progress and over a few weeks returned to a healthy full of life cat, she even mastered the art of meowing at last. The infection left her with one side effect, slight brain damage which manifests itself in slightly non-cat behavior. She is clumsy for a cat, her balance isn't quite what it could be and she gets 'lost' in the house now and then. Her idiosyncrasies only serve to make her more special.
I didn't ever think she would make it to 3 months old let alone her current 16 years. She has been through two husbands, 6 homes and travelled everywhere with me since her difficult start. She always had an understandable predisposition to nervousness and took time to settle in somewhere new. The first time I had to make the 400 mile drive to visit PG she was my sole companion. On arrival, in the wee small hours, she gave the place a quick once over,showed absolutely no signs of her usual nervousness, marched into the bedroom, jumped on the bed, settled down to sleep and decided this was the place she was going to 'retire'............her retirement is well deserved!

Oi! .....Talk to me while you drive.

Sunbathing is good for arthritis.