Penny got sick this morning.
The day had started off with the usual routines of making tea and toast and stoking the pipe. It is another lovely day so I flung open the doors to the garden. I like my fresh air. Penny likes this too as she can wander in and out at will without having to tap gently for me to open the door.
After a while, Herself said she was feeling a bit of a chill so I closed the doors again.
Shortly after, Penny naturally asked to go out again. She gave that little tap on the glass with her nails and gave me her impatient look. I went to open the door and that’s when I saw it – a neat little puddle of puke on the rug. The door had only been closed a short while and it certainly wasn’t there when I closed the door. If she had gone just a few inches further she would have reached the wooden floor which would have been a hell of a lot easier to clean up, but she had decided to decorate the brown rug instead, with the yellow contents of her stomach. What was strange was that I never heard a thing and it’s almost beside me. It was a stealth attack.
So I had to set about finding stain remover and loads of kitchen paper. I eventually got it cleaned up. I have no idea what caused it and Penny was completely indifferent to my carpet cleaning efforts, though when she passed the spot on the way back in she looked it it and then gave me a disdainful look, as if she was accusing me of doing it the first place.
Herself then decided she was feeling hot so I opened the doors again, which will help dry the rug.
Penny is fine. What’s more she was fine all along, being her usual happy self. She’s asleep in her bed at the moment with that strange arrangement of hers where she curls a fore-paw over her eyes to shut out the light.
I think she’s going deaf too. I have noticed more frequently that she doesn’t react to sounds. She used to prick up her ears if she ever heard the word “penny” cropping up in a conversation but now she ignores it, even if I’m calling her. She just ignores her name, even if there’s food in the offing which shows it’s serious.
I suppose she’s like the rest of us – getting old.
But at least I don’t vomit on the carpet.
Well, not since my serious drinking days anyway.