A CAT CALLED MERLOT

Thursday February 11th 2021

The doctor’s surgery at the end of the road, which is situated next door to a small but busy pharmacy, has been struggling with their intercom system. On Monday Queenie popped out for some analgesic and I trotted along behind, as I had a bit of separation anxiety from being locked up the week before and was staying close. When we got there, we were witness to the following:

Reception through intercom: Hello can I take your name?

Male patient who is hard of hearing: Say again?

Reception (Louder): Can I please have your name and date of birth?

Patient gives details, (Loudly)

Reception: Do you have any symptoms of Covid?

Patient: No, I’ve come about a rash.

Reception: Any symptoms of COVID?

Patient: No, It’s itchy at about six o’clock.

Reception: Your appointment is at six o’clock?

Patient: No the rash is down there (points).

Customers queuing outside pharmacy exchange glances and a pedestrian takes a detour from the pavement to the middle of the road, presumably to avoid catching it.

Reception: Do you have a cough or high temperature?

Patient (becoming exasperated): No, it’s a RASH, It’s down below, you know?

Reception: Do you live alone?

Patient: Well, I see my girlfriend on Wednesday’s and Fridays, for Scrabble or Twister. Normally on Friday it’s Bingo but what with the lockdown… 

Reception (Interrupting) : Come in! Just keep your mask on! 

Sound of buzzer as door is released.

Liam the antiques dealer from number 33 has been busy in his shed this week, despite the cold weather. He received a large box containing lava rock from his friend in Sicily. Last summer he purchased a quantity of Roman style pottery from a garden centre that was going out of business and he painted the lot with live yoghurt to speed up the ageing process. “Watch and learn, Merlot, my friend!” He announced, lowering his voice confidentially, fiddling around with a tube of superglue and applying some fragments of smashed up rock to the inside of the pots , “Today a cheap pot, tomorrow – a valuable artefact from Pompeii! Genius don’t you think?” I just looked at him in disbelief. “I’m only telling you, he said with a wink, because your’e a cat.” At that point I walked off in a huff to sort out a Valentine card for Marjorie. Did he really think cats have no morals? 

On a more positive note, Queenie and I have been sitting doing the Big Garden Birdwatch. I call it ‘doing a stock take’. She mumbled something about thank goodness I’m a rubbish hunter and heaven alone knows how I survived on the street. What’s the point, I thought, when it’s all in a sachet or tin and I have a housekeeper?