The garden today looks very different from what it looked 15 years ago. Frimousse’s lime-tree has grown. How about the little fir-tree on the side of the lane! But the real difference is not visible on the photos. In December of 2002 there were three cats: Frimousse, RouXy, and Tigri.

No cats left today. Well… not really. Mimi, the pussy of our neighbours on the other side of the road, has understood that Plume was gone and so was Frimousse. The way is clear, then. She comes nearly every day now, early in the morning. Yesterday she caught a mouse in our garden.





27th April 2008, on the wooden deer of RouXy’s Master

Frimousse has written:

In the evening of Friday, June 6th, 2008 (I was 8 years old), suddenly, I began grumbling while biting my tail, and trying to hide under a table or a chair.
My Masters did not know what to do. They were even afraid as I would attack them.
After two hours, at about eleven o’clock in the evening, they decided to call the vet on duty.

Stroke of luck, my doctor was on duty! She told them to try to give me some crisax (phenobarbital) because my Masters had some for Jump who was epileptic. She told them to bring me to her surgery the next morning.

She examined me.

My Masters told her that for some time I had had coughing fits. But she found nothing wrong with my lungs.
She said to continue to give me crisax and prescribed a steroid for my cough.
For my doctor they were epileptiform fits, the origin of which she could not understand.

He didn’t tell me, but my Master looked up epileptiform fits on the Internet and found that for cats “the prognosis was dark “.
My Masters really believed that our common life was coming to an end.
As I shook my head and moved my ears they were afraid of something serious in my brain.
On July 7th, 2008, my Master decided to help me to write my memoirs: Le Blog de Frimousse.

On July 16th, they took me back to my doctor’s.
As far as my cough was concerned, she believed it was tracheitis, no risk for me to suffocate. She prescribed a medicine to take in the morning and in the evening.
concerning the fits, she said that a brain tumour was very unlikely because my condition would have deteriorated while it was rather the opposite – and that I would suffer more and more while I did not suffer and while the fits could be cured by… being stroke.

My Masters took me to see my doctor I do not know how many more times. She concluded that it was “behavioral”.

I, Frimousse, had to live with those fits.
And my Masters had to live with Frimousse, who had fits. That’s it.
An important thing: contrary to what my Masters were afraid of, when I have a fit, I do not attack either my Masters, or Tigri, or RouXy!

June 3th 2008: