It's not Pat's

We've had a cat hanging around our garden for a while now. At first it was nasty to our own cats so we chased it off but, of course, with time it wore us down (more me than Maggie - Maggie's tough). To begin with we gave the cat occasional bits and bats of food and then it became almost regular feeding. What our spoiled cats didn't eat we gave to the garden cat.

Next came the name. Our neighbours said they called it Jess. The cat was crossing the garden - "Ah, here comes Postman Pat's cat," I said, "Hello, Jess," said Maggie. "How did you know that?" I asked. Postman Pat? Black and white cat? I didn't know. Impoverished upbringing you know. Or maybe I'm just too old.

She's a strokeable cat. There's always the possibility that she might turn and bite or scratch but usually she purrs. We're all a bit wary though. Especially our cats.

Jess has been hobbling for the past couple of days. I went to the vet and asked how much to strap up a broken leg. Around 50€ with the X-ray said the receptionist. The cat was surprisingly easy to catch, surprisingly docile inside the cage and well behaved on the journey in to town. Pets need a name at the vet's for their database. She's called Yésica I said. The bilingual version.

The vet suspected an abscess from the start; wild cats and fighting and such. There was pus everywhere. Knockout drops, antibiotic injection, anti flea and tick treatment and my credit card lighter by 68€. I left her in our living room in a cat basket to sleep off the anaesthetic but now she's back in the garden and walking much better.