Bob seems to be doing ok with his eyes. It comes and goes, but its certainly not as bad, and it doesn’t seem to have affected his hunting skills. He went out earlier this morning (4am, woke us up specially, bless him) and when I was getting breaky at a more reasonable time (8am), Bob was sat on the patio with a bird in his mouth, crying away. Nothing unusual in that. They like leaving gifts for us. I left the kitchen door open thinking he might come in.

And he certainly did, with said bird. I cornered the little bugger and got the bird off him. He hadn’t killed it and it was still breathing slightly, so I thought I’d have to do the dirty deed and put it out of its misery (its not the first time unfortunately). It looked in a pretty bad state. So I went to throw it outside on the patio, but instead it of landing on the ground, it flew off!

But it doesn’t end there though. I got home from work tonight and Kate told me Bob was acting very strange, he was sat in the bathroom crying again. I said, I bet he could hear the birds in the loft (appears to be a nest up there). I joked to Kate that once birds had gotten into the bathroom by coming down from the loft in the outside wall cavity and then out underneath the bath.

Turns out Bob was listening because he managed to create a gap in the side of the bath and a bird magically appeared. We were alerted to this by the banging and crashing of Bob jumping about all over everything, trying to get at the bird, who sensibly was sat on a shelf up high. Bob went off sulking when we appeared and we let the unscathed bird go.

Of course Weebl doesn’t go without getting any blame. Late last night he was sat in the middle of the Close whining at the top of his voice at another cat. The neighbours were curtain twitching, watching them fight!

Pesky cats! Never a dull moment.