Conversations with my poor little cat


El Mog:
Have you met my new Welsh friend, Dai Betik?
Bagelmouse: No, no. Didn’t you listen to the nice vet? You are diabetic.
El Mog: What? But I’m El Mog. You’re making no sense.
Bagelmouse: You have diabetes, not you are diabetes, pudding-brain. It’s a condition that means your blood sugar isn’t properly regulated. Come here and we can read about it in other parts of the interweb rather than displaying our ignorance by attempting to explain it ourselves.
El Mog: Woah! Is this why you jabbed me with that sharp stick earlier? And why bits of my fur are all shaved away?
Bagelmouse: Yup. And there’s two more of those sharp sticks every day from now on. And I’m sorry for not reading this first – or I’m sorry the vet didn’t tell me – about cold insulin stinging. Oops. Or maybe it’s just my incompetance with a needle that made you flinch.
El Mog: I did not like that.
Bagelmouse: I know, kitten. I’ll get better quickly.
El Mog: You better, or I’ll do some sharp sticking of my own. [Idly contemplates claws] Am I going to be alright then, or what?
Bagelmouse: As long as I don’t completely cock up your insulin and send you hypoglycaemic, you should be fine and live a long life.
El Mog: So no pressure on you then.
Bagelmouse: [gulps] No, none at all.
El Mog: Since you’re all freaked out and being nice to me, how about telling the ladeez and gennelmen some lovely things about me instead of all the nuts stuff you usually choose to share?
Bagelmouse: You mean, in a display of completely foundationless guilt, have a rare moment of soppiness where I abandon the arch character of El Mog that I’ve created purely for blog-related tomfoolery and actually reflect your true personality to the interweb?
El Mog: … que?
Bagelmouse: OK, in homage to High Fidelity where Rob lists five things he misses about Laura, even though it would be all too easy to list five things he finds annoying (“but it’s just the common or garden, schizo, woman stuff”), here’s my Top Five Things I Love About Elgar:

  • Nine times out of ten visits to the loo, he’ll get up from wherever he is in the flat and come and sit by me or rub round my ankles while I pee
  • Sometimes he purrs so hard he does a little hiccup
  • Much like the Tenth Doctor, he will lick anything
  • Sometimes, when he’s stretched out next to me on the bed, or curled up next to me on the sofa, he’ll reach out a paw and rest it on me. Just to make sure I’m still there
  • He is so utterly lacking in all usual feline grace –

El Mog: OI! This is supposed to be a list of NICE things!
Bagelmouse: – so utterly lacking in all usual feline grace that when he waddles through the flat he looks a bit like a bear. A little black bear cub. A little, black, teddy bear. Excuse me. [Goes off to bury face in a furry little tummy]

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