Had a yummy Chinese dinner with Andrew this evening, I think after all the Birmingham curries I am still trying to catch back up on the crispy duck pancakes front. He was extremely helpful, imparting his wisdom and later we had a lazy chat whilst wandering round HMV. Good to hear that he is happy, though working lots as per usual.
Stopped off at Sainsbury's to have some Ben & Jerry's ice-cream before popping back to ours for him to show me the wonder that is the new spangly show called 'Glee', which seems full of teenage thespian kicks, and surely is not a million miles away from that phenomenon unknown to childless adults in their 20's and 30's ... High School Musical.
Max has been off his food over the weekend, and on calling the vet, Charlie was told he should bring him in today, just in case. So he dutifully wrestled the enormous beast into his box of misery and took him to be poked and prodded by the vet, Goddards.
So, after being investigated, and having his temperature taken in the most awkward of places (Stockwell), there seemed to be no major symptoms, so the doctor suggested a blood test, to be on the safe side. So, having been warned that he is a feisty cat not to be messed with ["Yeah right(!)", says vet], Charlie leaves the vet to extract the necessary.
So, they shave his neck on one side and, unable to make him stay still, try again on the other side. Unable to make it work, they put him in their 'cat bag', like a giant pencilcase according to Fish. But even this is unable to contain him, and he BROKE THE CAT BAG!!!!
I would have been mortified if I had been there, but on the end of a phone line I automatically became mildly hysterical. Poor little Max. So, if he is still not well at the end of this week, he will go in to be sedated and have the blood taken when unconscious, but hopefully he will be back on his food by then. He seems pretty chilled out now, though looks quite strange with a strip taken out of his neck/chin, kind of like a teenager trying out new and highly stylish beard topiary.
I hope he gets better, it is worrying that he is not himself at the moment. He is relaxed and purry, but just not interested in eating. Although he could afford to lose a bit of his tum, it shouldn't be at the cost of his health.
More amusingly it makes me realise how much Poppy copies him. Like the daily breakfast wake up call in the morning. Without Max's lead, she just forgets and keeps sleeping. Silly little tart!