Norman cat has found his brave over the last few weeks and after four years of the upstairs and the front window ledge being his and much hissing and scratching of Percy if he tried to get close, he seems to have adopted a ‘F*ck that shit’ type of approach and has taken over the entire house, ignoring Percy entirely.  Percy is utterly confuddled by the change in circumstances and mostly backs away quietly or walks around the edge of a room if he comes across Norman.

Norman is, of course, an old man now, at 14 and a half years old.  Some days he eats, some days he doesn’t.  Last weekend something must have tripped inside him and he was attacking anything that looked like food: a burger defrosting for the barbecue, a bag of donuts stepson one brought home from work, my freshly made veggie burgers…he even tried to swipe some baked beans off my plate!

Then he slept and slept and slept.  And yesterday he stayed on the chair he’s adopted that’s now referred to as Norman’s throne all day and all night and was still there this morning.  I thought perhaps this was the end.  His breathing was slower than usual and slowed more while I sat with him.  I held his paw.  Mr R pointed out that maybe his breathing had slowed because I’d relaxed him so much with my paw holding and chatting.

Anyway, fast forward about two hours, Mr R opened the fridge and Norman shot off the Norman throne and climbed up the shelves in an attempt to reach the pork luncheon meat I’d bought especially to revive him.  It seems to have done the job… 🙂