Needle and Thread

All was quiet on the kiddy front – it was just me and the cat on the couch. In my new state of home-making bliss, I had decided to pick up a needle and thread and, shock-horror, do some mending. 

Now this only occurs out of necessity, due to the fails I’ve had on this front in the past dating back to form two’s home economics’ stuffed pig attempt. Then there was the embroidery.

“Wow, how clever are youuuu …” the observer would trail off as they turned the piece over and clapped eyes on the pig sty at the back.

But this time it was my large black velvet cushions which had been coming undone at the seams for the last year due to the kids using them as play fighting weapons. Unless the cushions suffered the same fate as Master Seven’s beloved stuffed rabbit, ie the rubbish bin after I ran out of both sticking plasters and rabbit to patch him up, then I couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

I picked up the needle and thread with the cat washing herself busily on my lap and eventually managed to thread the needle through the eye. Due to both my poor sight and light I had used a huge needle which made this task somewhat easier. So as not to have to repeat this, I used around a meter-long double strand of black cotton. I stabbed the needle into the couch so it wouldn’t get lost while I picked up the cushion and assessed the task ahead.

It didn’t look too hard – just some sewing in a straight line and, with the thick velvet, one would never see my messy handywork.

I reached over for the needle and thread but it was gone! Baffled as to how it could have come out of the couch and disappeared, I looked around. It must have fallen down the couch. Not wanting to disturb the cat and quite comfy myself, I eventually went about re-threading another. It was then the cat started retching.

Surely not.

She stopped and carried on washing herself. Phew. But then it started again. She was frothing at the mouth and it was then I caught a flash of silver.

My first thought was ‘Can the heimlich manoeuvre be performed on a cat?’ and ‘Would 111 respond to an emergency for a cat?’ CPR? Argh – don’t go there. Then my pony club days kicked into gear. To get a horse to open its mouth, you press your thumb into the side of the mouth.

I did this on my now-convulsing cat. Her mouth opened and I pulled out the giant needle just before it made its descent. A trail of meter-long soggy black thread followed making her gag as it came up her throat.

The cat went back to her washing like nothing had happened while I sat there with my two threaded needles wondering if that really had just happened. 

Eventually I followed suit and nonchalantly patched up my cushions in the usual hap-hazard fashion.