Covid, and Brian in the wars

This morning, Lorraine found some more Covid tests. Lorraine's positive, this time. She has all the classic symptoms. Mine negative again, so decided perkily this morning to do carry some things out of the house into the garage, water the glasshouse plants and feed the fish. This rapidly exhausting so I repaired to the sofa with Lorraine. And this just in from the self-pity news desk, my back has seized up too,  and I have shaved off my beard off, as it was irritating new sore patches on my face. 

As we nicely settled, Brian had a horrible fit. It went on for at least a minute. We were quite sure we were witnessing his death. One of the worst things I've seen. Eventually, it passed, and he hid for a while under the sofa. He had thrashed about, and had torn out several claws which were dug in the carpet, so there was some blood too. Miraculously, he emerged a while later seeming fairly normal.  

Lorraine fixed up an emergency vet appointment in Eastbourne, and had to ask Beth to take him off bravely. I at least was quite certain this was the last time I'd see the poor thing, who is now 18. The emergency vet checked him out and said he seems normal, and was being friendly and inquisitive. James dropped him off in his basket in the porch later, as Beth had a rehearsal.  Brian pleased to be home, and none the worse for his adventure. Certainly shook me and Lorraine up though.

Spoke to Mum who had been out yesterday with Tanya and Robert to an Indian restaurant. 

The day ended, with us still a bit shaken, me feeling exhausted, and Lorraine still quite ill. But a full compliment of cats, and a hefty emergency vet bill.

A recent snap of our poor little Brian.