Cat Tales, 16

Ever seen a cat with a medi-collar on? That’s what they put on at the vet’s before they put me in the carrier. They thought to stop me scratching, licking and biting the bandage. Huh? I am the Hand-of God, I don’t do that sort of stuff.

The vet cut my toe off. Just hanging by a thread, she said. So I’m a two-toe wonder now. Most cats that happens to, lose their whole foot, she said. That’s all while I’m still caged in the recovery room.

They gave me wet food. I hate wet food. I’d rather eat a spiny gecko tail. I turned up my nose and the vet nurse laughed. I turned my back then.

As soon as I heard my human in the waiting room, I started a racket. Yowling and throwing myself against the wire front of the cage.

“Take her home, for peace’s sake,” said the vet. “Come back later to pay and for the meds.”

That’s what happened. Me in the shed. The pernickety old woman fetching the meds which she now knew how to toss down my throat. The vet nurse had demoed presumably. I saw her apply the method to some other poor creature. One good thing, to get these meds into me, the pernickety old woman had to take the collar off me.

To open my mouth, the pernickety old woman squeezed my jaws apart at the joints. Then, having tossed the goods into the gulch, she clenched my jaws together to stop me spitting them out! Honestly, where do humans learn this tricks?

But, as a treat, I was then allowed to sleep on her bed within the klamboe—that’s the mosquito net—usually a serious no no. On the understanding that I wouldn’t rip the bandage off.

I gave her my best expression of disdain. Why would I rip off the bandages? Did you know cats can do 247 different expressions? Proven fact. A couple of people studying cats in a cat cafe. In Japan. You find out more? Just do that thing humans always do when they want to know something, using the thing you talk into.

Modem troubles

My modem is ‘on the blink’, which is a colloquial way of saying it has started to fail. Sometimes its little lights work well and my computer has an internet connection.

Sometimes they’re blinking and I know then there’s a gappy reception and goodbye to getting anything done online except by mobile. That means one-fingered typing for me.

I’m sitting on instalment 16 of Cat Tales, with no way that I have found of getting the photos from the computer onto my phone.

People will tell me the cloud and/or dropbox. Seems like neither of them like going in reverse. Mind you that could be a personal bugbear.

Anyway, there it is. Another hold-up.

Now to access the other photo …

Lego: Building a Swamp, 1

Lego road base-plate conversion

Surrounding the island where Bosley and Company have settled, lies a vast wetland of sandbanks, low islands and mostly shallow channels. The only river channel deep enough to take shipping fortunately runs past the west of the island.

But today I’ll be starting part of the swampy landscape using this old road-plate. I realize this is a very old road plate, maybe even vintage. I got it in second hand lot. And base-plates have been hard to get secondhand.

NOTE that on this plate the height of the road surface and the plate surface between the studs is exactly the same. This is what will make it very easy to convert. I’ll be using a third version of my so far favorite technique … the MILS plate!

Surrounding the plate in the photo above are some of the bits and pieces I’ll be using to install a ‘skin’ over the whole plate. And I’ll be trying to save pieces (I never have enough) and time by laying down the bases of the various islands I’m planning as well as water channels as I’ve roughed up below. Scale is 4 studs per square. (I keep all my maps for this project in a Year 1 and 2 maths exercise book. )

rough map of the build

Here I’m about a third of the way. Light blue and grey will be water and mud. The tan places the islands. I’m using black and mid green plates to either fasten the larger plates to the studs or to support them on the flat roadway. To get everything to hang together it helps to connect the landscaping plates to each other with the underlay pieces.

Testing the base layer

This is my base layer. I’ve tested it by pressing down hard on all the plates and discovered two loose 3×3’s. They’ll need better foundations. The hole to the left? I didn’t have enough grey plates of the right sizes and shapes. I fixed it with two grey 1x2s on a black elbow. Pressed it in. It’s good to go.

Comparing this to the map, you’ve seen already that I had to let go of my ideas as to where to place the islands. It’s all right. I will solve that problem in the next installment.

Lego: Mapping

My original plan was about four times larger than I have available … my tabletop is four baseplates wide (baseplates are 25 cm/10 inches a side.)

The first thing that told me I’d be biting off more than I could chew was realizing I’d need about 45 baseplates.

The sheer work involved in building them and the cost were the next considerations. I reminded myself of the premise.

“Bosley and Co are building their accommodation on an island that nobody wants, surrounded by wetlands.”

The cost of the wetlands alone would’ve been beyond the scope of the project. Transparent light blue 1×2 tiles are 22 cents each in my scene.

I decided to go back to my original idea. Instead of covering seven baseplates with swamp, I’ll make one, at most two, swamps and move them around as needed.

I’m not sure yet what I’ll do about the deep water river channel. Two baseplates already but including with the channel, places for large ships and small boats to dock. As seen below:

Deep water channel

Cat Tales, 15


While the pernickety old woman pruned the rosebush in the front yard, a cheeky tom pranced along our back fence. I streaked over there, intending to see him off! I ran up the fence, made to dance along the top, thinking to tip the top crossbar every couple of paces with my right side foot and paw. For balance.

I was stuck! My rear claw too deep in the soft old timber! I wrenched and jerked to get free, tore my toe almost from my foot. Hurt! Hurt!

I miaowed and wailed and screamed for help. “Hurt! Tearing! My foot!”

My human came running. “What are you doing? What are you doing?”

“Oh no!” she said. “I’ll have to cut you loose and there’s blood already!”

“Hang on!” She pulled my leg back at the same time as snipping my claw through with the secateurs.

I screeched, would’ve jumped down and run, but she gripped me by the scruff of my neck. She moved me onto her shoulder and kneeled down to where she’d dropped her gardening apron. Moved me onto that and had me rolled up in it in a flash.

“Phew!” she said. Got to her feet. “I know I can’t trust you not to get free so you’ll have to come.” She took me into the garage. “We’re looking for the cat carrier. Give me a nudge when you see it.”

Me give her a nudge? I hate the cat carrier!

“Found it! Don’t move now!” She lay me on the work bench and slid the cat carrier out from under it. “It’s dusty! Where’s a rag?”

I wrenched and wriggled. Just about got myself free when she grabbed me and fed me into the cat carrier.

Yowling, I hung onto the doorway as usual but my heart wasn’t in the struggle. I smelled my blood. I wanted to be licking my foot. Let myself be pushed in.

She shut the little gate and barred it. “Well, let me think,” she said. “I doubt that I can carry you—carrier and all—all the way to the vet.”

I pressed into the back of the carrier. Really not interested. Found my wound and started licking.

The pernickety old woman went to the garden shed. Got out the wheelbarrow and lifted the carrier onto it. Trundled me down the drive, left turn into the street, across the road. Another left turn and a couple of blocks along. Right turn into the bad place.

I yowled. Felt sick. The turns and trundles dizzy-making. Give me peace and quiet. I don’t like it at the vet’s. They have pointy things they stick into me. They have rules. Dogs on their leashes, cats in their carriers. I wailed as the pernickety old woman carried me into the waiting room.

“Oh dear,” the secretary said while I took a breath. “Bleeding?”

“Yes, quite a bit of the red stuff,” the pernickety old woman said. She explained what she thought had happened.

“Come through,” one of the vet nurses said.

My human picked up the carrier and we went into the scary place.
————
Yes. They stuck me with something. I spent the night. Refused their food. In the morning, I was bandaged up. When we got home, the carrier and the wheelbarrow again, my human locked me in the shed. “Go to sleep,” she said. “They said you would want to. I’ll be back in a jiff.”