Susan Morrison: I got him... fur better or worse

Pic: Danny Lawson/PA Wire
Pic: Danny Lawson/PA Wire
Have your say

Our old cat, Sully, has a bit of an issue with his eyes. They tend to get a bit infected and yucky now and again, which means that we have to take our old cat Sully to the vet.

Correction. I, that is, mum here, has to take our old cat Sully to the vet.

So, time to call for an appointment. Notice too late that Sully is right behind me and has heard every single word. Don’t you believe that cats don’t speak English. They do, you know. Cat heads straight for hiding place, under son’s bed, where he lurks behind the train set.

Mum forced to take direct action, which involves pulling bed away from wall whilst simultaneously ninja leaping into the gap like Bruce Willis in Die Hard movies one through five, wielding the weapon of choice, an old towel.

Sully might be one eye down, but he’s nimble for his years and makes a belt for the door – which some twit left open. Whole situation escalates to Defcon 1, and the movie references shift to the bit in Aliens when they think they have the beast contained but, of course, it metamorphoses into a giant spring-loaded, jaw-extending razor-toothed, acid-dribbling monster, which Sully is clearly modelling his behaviour on.

We trap the beast behind the door in the old towel (BHS, 1997. As my mother says, doesn’t owe us anything). Sully turns into a four-legged buzz saw, with all sets of claws out to get justice for this undignified 

He has a secret weapon in his armoury. In modern warfare, aircraft can deploy countermeasures against missiles, such as ribbons of aluminium, so the air-to-air missile guidance system gets confused and can’t lock on target.

All those years spent reading my brother’s Victor magazine were not in vain.

Sully has a similar technique. When menaced by a ground-to-air towel and mother threat, he launches extreme countermeasures and jettisons fur. Masses of it. And, knowing that mum has hayfever and thus cannot encounter a cloud of cat fur without sneezing, wheezing, nose running and eyes streaming, he figures he’s won.

Wrong. It was an epic battle of sweat, sneezes and tears but, by jingo, I got that beast in the box.