The upshot of our battle is that we’re being stand offish to each other. The old woman does not try to touch me and I spend long hours under the bed where I can’t see what she gets up to.

But today she escaped the apartment altogether. The deepest scratch on her hand got infected—not my fault, she should’ve known better—and off to the doctor she went.

When she came back she had a big white bandage on her hand which did look, I confess, quite swollen. I understand she is to take medicines for ten days.

And she’s changed her attitude. She doesn’t give me any kibbles unless I do what she orders me to do. Such as for example she said ‘Up’ about fifteen minutes ago. I didn’t up and she gave me no encouragement awards.

So I jumped up on the couch just now and she said, good girl and gave me just two kibbles! And that was it. So I sat down. I’m feeling quite confused. I had the upper paw, and suddenly I’m back on square one?

One good thing she gave me a mystery to solve while she went out and I do quite like a mystery. This one is how to get the kibbles from under the plastic thing.