sausage cat

sausage cat

this is my cat. her name is gene. as is custom in this part of the world (or in the uk) she is an indoors/outdoors cat. she is spayed.

i cannot imagine the number of scrapes she'd get into if she is NOT spayed. neighbourhood pets are all well hard pets judging from the number of times i've had to clean her wounds etc etc.

the best/worst part of this cat is that she is remarkably intelligent. yay when it means that not only she responds to my name, but she'll respond to basic instructions without treats. nay when it means she's too clever at getting out of things. at this point what's stopping her is a bigger brain and an opposable thumb.

so, this time around, she got herself a couple of wounds on her belly, filling with pus. she basically got pierced (the vet was cleaning her wounds and the saline went into one hole and came squirting out the other. !). to add to her indignity she got another cone, and i knew it was only a matter of time. the last time she cut her time down to half a day. somewhere in the neighbourhood there must be a spot where cones go to die.

but thankfully this time i remembered the tip (thanks @scaramouche!) about cats wearing baby clothes. now, i don't have children but the house does have a sewing machine. so i sacrificed an old camisole (it's got memories! it's the one i got from M&S the first time I was in London! When I was teenager! they really made things to last those days!), and ta-da.

holy shit it took her a day or less to figure out how to get out of that too. a true cat burglar, this cat.