When my husband Peter is in bed, he uses an assisted breathing machine which pushes air into his lungs and out again through a tube attached to his nostrils. This tube goes up the outside of his nose, attaches to a cap which Peter wears on his head and is then attached to another tube which goes into his assisted breathing machine.

From time to time, the tube that goes into his nose becomes detached from the one which goes into his machine. When this happens, the machine lets out a loud, high-pitched alarm which is accompanied by the shrill, piercing whistle of air being forcibly pushed through an open-ended tube into open space. This morning the tubes became detached while I was at the vets with Dee Dee. Peter, now takes up the story:

When the air hose becomes detached the high pitched alarm and shrill whistling always upsets our cats but, as Sheenah is usually very swift to respond, their peaceful lives are barely affected. Nor generally is mine as in bed without exertion I can breathe unassisted for 30 or so minutes before getting too distressed.

This morning the tube became detached some 20 minutes before Sheenah was due back. Several cats - Sylvia, Megan, Hermione and Abbey - who had popped out after breakfast to check that all in their garden and the neighbourhood was how they thought it should be - came rushing home to investigate the disturbance. They slipped in through the cat flap, swiftly checked my bedroom, then checked the kitchen for spare food and just as swiftly as they had entered, left for the relative peace and quiet of the garden.

Jason was different. When he came in he stayed in. He checked the bedroom twice and twice left it to check the house. I got the distinct impression he was looking for Sheenah, not merely checking for leftovers in the kitchen.

After his fruitless searches he returned to the bedroom for a third time and jumped up onto Sheenah's bed, saw it was empty, and left once again walking purposefully towards the living room. After a short time he came back into the bedroom, again leapt onto Sheenah's bed and, as on his other visits, I told him it was ok, Sheenah would be back soon. This time he crossed onto my bed and walked up onto my chest towards my head, something he never normally does. He cried softly and I again assured him that I was ok and that Sheenah would be back soon to fix things. Jason studied my face intently, then sniffed at my nose and, seemingly satisfied, cried softly once more before jumping off the bed and wandering into the hall.

He remained sitting in the hall until Sheenah returned with Dee Dee. Once assured that Sheenah had fixed my breathing tube, he resumed his normal morning routine satisfied that once again all was well in his world.

Copyright © Sheenah and Peter Large
December 17, 2004