by Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
Good morning, dear friends,
Grammy had one of her rare, and we mean few and far between, almost sleepless nights. Well, what do you expect when you nap in your chair all afternoon, Grammy?
Fortunately, she hadn't disturbed our sleep through the day - which happens more often than not - so we got our requisite 18 hours in. As a result we three, Mousie, Sweetie and I, Whiskers, kept her company through the wee hours.
Where were the boys, you say? We left them sleeping in the bedroom, Etude under the duvet, Rondo in the marshmallow bed and tippy-toed out to join Grammy on her armchair. She was in it, we were on it, Sweetie and Mousie on the arms and I in her lap as is my due as Matriarch of this motley crew.
At first we thought we'd just snuggle with her and purr her to sleep. That didn't work! The old girl had her nose in a 12th century historical novel full of intrigue and murder and was nearing the end. Eyes wide, reading voraciously there was no way she was going to settle down too quickly. At least until the end of the book. So, we gave up that idea hunkered down and had a wee nap in her lap, draped over her elbow, snuggled against her shoulder and waited her out.
BUT, as soon as she set that book down we were alert and ready to go. Not often we girls get to have a natter without masculine interference. This was a treat and we were taking full advantage. Coffee pot had been brewing so we poured her a cup, dressed it the way she likes and set it before her. After a sip she said, "So, what would you like to chat about girls?"
We were so excited the questions just tumbled out our mouths. They were coming so fast Grammy was having difficulty answering them all.
Are boy cats really made of puppy dog tails? Yewww, That's gross. Did you know caterpillar hearts are long and thin and run perpendicular to their length? Why can't Whiskers eat Mousie's food? Why are the boys bullies? Do you love girl kitties best? You don't? Equally? Huh! Can we get another girl kitty? Why is your bed so small? Is kitty poop precious? Why do you scoop and bag it then? Where does it go? Can I have a treat? Can we sell the boys? What is the meaning of life? Why are bananas yellow? Why is your hair grey? Why don't kitties turn grey when they get old? How old are you really? Who's Methuselah? Why is our food in tins but you have to cook yours? Can we taste your food?
Finally Grammy's eyes glazed over, coffee forgotten and dozed off. Mission accomplished.
Have a wonderful day, friends and Stay home, Wash your hands and Don't touch your face.
Comments are welcomed.
By Mousie, chronicler of family stuff.
Good morning friends. I have decided to share some of Grammy's knitting with you. She's been busy over the years with her needlework. She sells some and donates or gives away much more.
Now you know Grammy is ANCIENT and I mean really, really old. So old that she's crochety. *giggles* Speaking of crochety... she crocheted a gazillion years ago but gave it up after developing arthritis in her thumb. I'll show you her last crochet project in our slideshow ... a grey shawl made for a friend.
That is when she switched back to knitting which she hadn't done in years. Oh, through those busy career years she'd pick up her needles and work on a project once in a while ... but months might go by between start and finish of a knitting project.
Then one day a friend saw a sweater pattern and that triggered her urge to knit again. She picked up her knitting needles and hasn't put them down for more than a day or two at a time over the past 10 or so years. She has made hats, scarves, a few pullover sweaters, and sweater coats, dog sweaters, a tea and bodum coffee cozies, a few lap blankets for the elderly. Seldom a day goes by when she doesn't work on something. In fact, over the past week she has finished two items, one we'll show (a white v-neck pullover) and the other (a shawl) must wait until the recipient gets it in late March. We don't want to spoil the surprise.
When Grammy learned that she could do volunteer knitting for a hospital she was thrilled. Chemo hats for the adult Cancer Ward and Preemie Gowns for the NICU. These are the projects she chose to make because they are small and could be done while travelling on public transit. She keeps the more challenging patterns to work on at home after she's worn us out. For some reason she doesn't like us helping her. Can you believe it? Why, you ask? Well...
Sweetie is quite adept at cutting the yarn with her teeth, running off with the crochet hooks used to fix a dropped stitch, and chewing knitting needles. I like to disturb Grammy and lick her hair to distract her while mummy Whiskers steals into her lap and shares her fur with whatever item Grammy's knitting. She's so unselfish that way. *giggles*
While the boys aren't into knitting, Etude does like to team up with Sweetie and steal knitting needles, play with knitting markers and toss whatever he can reach onto the floor. He is a mischief. Rondo, on the other hand ignores the knitting, sits on the arm of the chair and meows for more food. He can be quite persistent and annoying, let me tell you.
Well, there isn't much more to say so I'll just post the slideshow with a sampling of her projects. Boring, I know, but it keeps the old girl out of mischief. Good thing too since that's our job.
You can see many of her projects on her Facebook page but we'll share a smattering here in a slideshow. Hope we don't bore you.
Comments are welcomed. Keep it fun.
By Sweetie, frustrated blogger
Dear friends. You'll never believe what happened! Grammy, our scribe, you know... the slacker who types our blogs Tuesdays instead of our requisite Monday, has really done it this time.
I just spent all day dictating the blog... and I must say, it was a good one. T is For... was Terrific, Timely and a Tummy Tickler. We finally finished it, she saved it and I asked her to add my profile photo and a few other pictures.
What does she do? She puts Etude's photo up. How could she mistake me for that chubby fellow? Huh? Really! How could she be that dumb? Then to top it off when she deleted the photo she ended up deleting the whole blog. Unfortunately, when she tried to pull up her last saved copy she had deleted everything. That whole beautifully dictated blog is GONE!
So much for our generosity doubling her salary. So, for now... this is all you get, dear friends. a dismal apology from us. As a consolation we will add in a few photos in a slideshow... but that doesn't make up for such a mishap.
We are still on the lookout for a new scribe. Please if you are interested send us your resumes and we'll consider them thoughtfully and thoroughly.
by Gentle Mousie, cuddlemuffin and concerned blogger.
A new year is beginning and that means we have a clean slate to write upon and already it has been marred. Yes, marred. As you must realize, we did not post a blog yesterday. Not from lack of trying. The scribe, you know - Grammy... well, she slacked off. Obviously, she has her priorities mixed up.
Of course, I realize that is the trouble with cheap help. So, I called the others to a meeting to discuss this issues. We five, sweet, cuddly fluffballs, sat down and had a discussion. This is how it went.
Whiskers spoke first and suggested we ought to increase Grammy's salary after all, she does do a lot for us as it is. The old dear might be more inclined to focus on us instead of all those other things that grab her attention if we grease the wheels, so to speak. Rondo jumped up and started to freak. As the sole breadwinner among the quintet he wasn't keen to cough up more moula. He felt we were already paying her too much - you know - besides the excess attention! Don't forget all those cuddles we give her and the nightly hair grooming and hand washing while she (tries to) sleeps. And those mock battles where we pounce on Sweetie to make her squeal that drag the old dear out of bed in the wee hours.
With that, Etude piped in and suggested we might check out what the economic inflation index was for the year and proceeded to do so. Maybe we could manage somewhere around three per cent? What do you think? That wouldn't break the bank. Rondo wasn't having any of that... he felt we needed to conserve that to pay for the extra cost of food this year - especially now that we have three main diets to consider - and in 5 variations... Weight control for Etude (wet and kibble) and himself (kibble only, please), Urinary for Mousie and Hypoallergenic for Whiskers (which Sweetie can have if she doesn't want her regular food).
Good point, Rondo. Well, at that point Sweetie jumped up and told the boys they were being stingy... (3% and no increase, pffft!). She continued...We should be generous and offer Grammy a 40 percent increase. That way maybe we could count on more cuddles and it would cover the cost of replacing the yarn we destroy when she's knitting. WELL, I, Mousie, don't destroy yarn but as those that do are siblings and siblings should stand together, I thought that a very good idea. Yes, a 40 percent increase sounded reasonable.
With that, mummy Whiskers, who had nodded off while Etude was on the internet checking on inflation rates, woke up and sputtered and shouted out. Why not bowl the old dear over and offer to double her salary? You know, she does clean our litter boxes, feed us frequent meals a day, washes all our dishes and keeps our bedding clean ... AND SHE PAYS THE BILL FOR THE HEATING to keep us warm. Come on guys. Show a little compassion here. It's the NEW YEAR and we ought to show a little generosity here.
Voice pipes up from the livingroom ... YOU DO REALIZE THAT DOUBLE $0 is still ZERO, don't you? and BLOGS will be on Tuesdays this month!!!
Talk about ungrateful. That proves it! You cannot get good help these days, not matter how generous you are!
by Mousie and Sweetie, sisters in mischief.
*Speaking in Unison -Almost*
DDo yyou, oour rreaders, hhave aa hhuman wwho iis nnuts aabout ccrosswords?
Mousie: Stop Sweetie!... you're a millisecond behind me when we speak... maybe we should
take turns doing this. What do you think?
Sweetie: Oh okay! You go first. You're older than me.
Mousie: Sure! Rub it in, little sister. Okay, I'll start. Friends, Our Grammy is cuckoo about crosswords. You know the ones! Those she shouts mostly at the boys, occasionally at us.
No, Etude! Stop biting Whiskers!
Rondo! Dinner is coming! Stop your whinging!
Enough Whiskers, don't lick my hair, (my arm, my cheek). I'm trying to sleep. Mousie, stop climbing the screen door!
Ouch! Sweetie, Unclaw my rib (my armpit)! Nuzzle somewhere else!
Etude, don't touch my feet! You woke me!
Out of my chair, Rondo!
Sweetie, NO! NO! NO! leave the knitting needles alone. Don't bite the yarn!
Mousie, 100 kisses before bedtime is enough. Now go to sleep!
One at a time on my lap, boys!
Boy, she is a grouchy ol' bear!
Sweetie: Oh Mousie, not those crosswords. The ones in the paper and in paperback books that Grammy and Aunty L. are always working on.
Mousie: What? You joking me? I like when she does those. Where do you think she gets all those funny words she uses? Haven't you noticed? Oh, and stuff from all kinds of things - History, Geography, Current and Past Events, Media, Science and a plethora of other topics. Oh, there's one of those words now! Plethora. Tehee.
Sweetie: That's true! And when she is focused on those she forgets to give Whiskers her pill... BUT she also forgets other things.... like us climbing the balcony door screen, and me biting the boys' ears to make them play. *giggles*
The worst is when she forgets to scoop our litter boxes. *Shout from living-room* I DO NOT FORGET TO SCOOP YOUR LITTER BOXES! They'd be stinky if I did.
Mousie: Ooops! More cross words. You'd better run and hide, Sweetie. I'm right behind you.
So, friends. Don't cross Grammy. She might have a few words for you too. *Scampers off to hide with Sweetie*
*Another shout* I HEAR SNICKERING IN THERE! WHAT ARE YOU TWO UP TO???
Nothing, Grammy! *muffling their snickers behind paws Sweetie whispers to Mousie* We'd best be quiet until she picks up her knitting or another crossword.
*Whispering in Uunison* Sso ffriends, tthat's aall ffor tthis wweek. Ccomments aare wwelcomed, eespecially iif tthey aare ccomical.
by Mousie, birthday girl and Grammy's little cutiepie.
Good morning, Friends.
This KITTEN just celebrated her 9th birthday and right up front I'd like to thank all my friends for the greetings, pressies and delightful comments and wishes for me. You all made my day glorious. Thank you.
This all came a day after we got good news about my mummy, Whiskers. As you know, we've all been worried about her. She had lost some weight, her coat was kind of rough and she was tossing her food a lot. Blood work showed her potassium high, sodium low and B12 in the proverbial litterbox. Well, we don't have a definitive answer to what is wrong but it is thought that she may have an inflamed stomach and bowel. We hope that's all... as it can be managed with diet and vitamins.
A course of fluids, B12 shot and some meds to settle the tummy and a new food seemed to settle her down and she was allowed to come home the next day. Close monitoring, weekly B12 shots, daily tummy meds and her new food seem to be working.
Her follow-up this past Friday was good... she gained back most of what she'd lost, is not throwing up, gets tummy meds every other morning until the bottle is finished and gets one more B12 shot with close monitoring over the next 5 weeks until her next checkup.
Despite all this she is still a wily old girl... and gives Grammy a run for her money as they say. Anticipating the morning syringe she hovers where she has multiple escape routes and hiding places. On the morning Grammy only feed her she settles quickly to eat... and has a hearty appetite. The in-between days she scoots, slinks and scampers around the condo to avoid the inevitable meds. By the time Grammy wins the contest, and she always does, eventually... both are exhausted. It's a good thing that giving her breakfast has to wait an hour. Grammy collapses into her chair, Whiskers into her tent and both take a much needed nap.
Sweetie and I await our breakfast until we can all enjoy it together...with mummy. The boys, on the other hand, DO NOT WAIT. Those pork chops, especially RONDO howl and wail and moan until Grammy puts out their breakfasts. I swear they don't even taste their food as they inhale it. They so lack the finer graces of Sweetie, mummy and me... well, maybe Sweetie and me. Mummy eats voraciously too. *giggles*
So, what does all this have to do with Knitting? Well, with everything that's been going on - Grammy's injuries and healing, Sweetie's teeth and mummy Whiskers' upset - Grammy has been home more than usual and yet, hasn't been knitting as much as she was. The old dear only managed to read on-line books as a distraction for most of the time but finally picked up one of her projects and actually finished knitting it. Wow! We are impressed. She now has a nice blue sweater for autumn. She's working on another - a white V-neck pullover - but needs two measurements before she can complete it... and awaits those from the person for whom it is being made.
Dare we tell you how many other projects are started and not completed? Here goes... another sweater, a shrug, a scarf, a shawl, and a pair of socks...oh and a remake of a pair of slippers. ALL items starting with the letter S... What's with that? This isn't so bad. REALLY! Actually, the list is getting smaller as she works her way through them... What motivates her? The long list of things she still wants to make and won't start until these in-process items are completed.
Well, friends. That's all for this week... slim pickins, I'm afraid but we'll post Grammy's sweater below... it awaits buttons, but the right ones which Grammy hasn't found yet. The search goes on... for them.
Comments are welcomed. Especially if funny, sweet or cute like me.
by Whiskers, the exasperated matron of mischief.
Just so's you know, right up front, I'm one ticked-off kitty. Yes, I am. No, I didn't remove a tick from my furry body. I don't have ticks, fleas or any other parasites. Cheeky readers, to even think that!
I'm annoyed because the old girl is unwell AGAIN... and 'we' are back on nursing duties. Can you believe it? You might as well... 'cause it's true.
Sweetie and Gentle Mousie have donned their nursing caps and gear and gone into overdrive. Honey and lemon in her Wild Sweet Orange tea for the sore throat, inhaled steroids for the lungs (for Grammy, not them) and another steroid for the sinuses. Tucked in a blanket with heating pad. This is getting old, Grammy! Really old!
So, what does that do to us? Well, besides having to manage the old girl, it puts a major damper on the mischief side of life. Yes, it does! How can we create mayhem with a pair of brown-speckled blue eyes staring at us? EXACTLY! We cannot! And that ticks me off because that's what I am all about and what I had planned for this week.
So, what to do from here... Well, let's see. Maybe we'll dose her up on her meds, wrap her in bubblewrap and ship her off to some obscure place with no return address on the package. Yes, I think that sounds like a plan.
What was that, Sweetie? *Groan, moan, mumble, splutter* Well, it seems the nurses have spoken. I'm not shipping her off to some unknown destination. Such party poopers. Nothing like putting a damper on life. I tell you though, when they speak, we listen... Look at those faces! They are not to be trifled with. *grumble, mutter, whine*
What to do with the old girl? Anyone have suggestions?
Well, if we cannot ship her off into oblivion or some such place the boys and I, Whiskers the mischief matron, will make ourselves scarce.
'But, before I leave... just a little quick update. You remember that ant issue we discussed and had taken care of... Well..... Grammy thought they were back and freaked... maybe that's what triggered her 'whatever-she-has'!
Saturday after her delightful afternoon with Aunty L she treated herself to a manicure and Mrs L, the manicurist, gave the old girl some herbs from her garden. Grammy loves fresh herbs and this was oregano freshly picked. While Grammy cannot smell it she remembers how she loved it and imagined how delicious it would be in her cooking, brought it home, took it out of the baggie and placed it in water to crisp up until she used it.
Because we are destructive little creatures with plants Grammy set the oregano in it's jar of water on the balcony to use in a day or two, returned to the kitchen and an ANT was crawling around on the countertop. FREAK OUT!! Grammy thought the miserable critters were back but we reassured her it probably came off the oregano.
Well, unfortunately for it, Grammy dispatched it toot sweet.
It was number 3 critter this past week. Spider 1 was a sneaky little critter that was hiding in the angle between bathroom and bedroom doorways. GONE in a flash!
Then, Sweetie and Etude were entertaining another on the livingroom floor on Tuesday. It was more like hockey for cats with the spider as the puck. Poor spider wasn't happy about it but hey... check out how Grammy feels about those in the blog in Poetry by Rondo and you'll know how he was handled - well, not handled. More like footled!
There was also a tentative 4th but that was Grammy having hallucinations in the shower. She freaked and almost toppled out of the tub when she saw this huge black, long legged thing on her sponge holder. I tell you... it was NOTHING but a reflection of the sponge's shadow in the clear plastic holder... but you'd have thought the old dear was being murdered. The woman is HIGH MAINTENANCE!
Boys, pack your backpacks and grab my carryon. Don't forget your passports. I've got the 'plastic' yes, the red one! We're heading out for a few days, weeks, however long it takes for Grammy to get over whatever she has or arrives at destination unknown.
*Dials Air Canada* "When is the next flight out to Christiansted?" *listens* "Hold the plane, we're 5 minutes away! Wait for us!" *conference call to BAMA and Muddy Waters* "Get ready we're diverting the jet to pick you all up!"
"Here we come, Aunty M! Hope the pool is ready and you're stocked up on food and sodas!"
Comments welcomed... especially when they are funny, silly or just plain goofy.
by Whiskers, matriarch of mischief
Good morning, friends.
I don't know what started me down this road but... Well, actually, I do.
Grammy and I were having a quiet chat and a china mug of Tazo's Wild Sweet Orange tea while the rest of the family napped. It was lovely and peaceful; soft classical music in the background, snow muffling the outdoor sounds, Grammy with heating pad at her back and me snuggled and purring in her lap one paw on her tummy, one balancing my teacup.
Yes, yes, I know... Sitting where I am I promise I'm being careful not to spill my hot brew in her lap. That would not be clever and I'm a clever girl so... enough said. Oh, that's funny... me sitting in her lap lapping up my tea. *giggles* Okay, that was weak but then so was my tea. Grammy makes it medium strength and I like it a wee bit stronger but she's the one with the opposable thumbs so I don't complain. On days when she's preoccupied and it sets longer I get it my way.
Okay, I know I'm mind wandering here but remember we tend to do that in our 'middle years'. What are middle years, you say? Those times between being and raising little 'uns and becoming old timers. A time when responsibilities ease up and we can just sit, relax and reflect on our lives, a time when we still have our faculties before they become faulty or frail.
As you know, Grammy was a foster mom and Mousie and I were her first fosters. A long line of fosters came soon after... some older, some youngish and one in particular was very young, barely out of kitten-hood herself, skinny with a bulging belly. Today we'll talk a bit about life around here with Miss Fidelia, her brood and the activities that we all got into while she was living here.
Fidelia was a beauty. Cute face. Full of mischief... just our kind of kitty. On arrival she was about 3 weeks into her pregnancy, barely more than 1/2 her estimated adult weight with 5 wiggling lumps squirming and bulging her otherwise skinny body.
Grammy had a mission... get this kitten nourished and her weight up to give her babies a chance. As usual, she went to work... feeding her, putting together a bed for the pending birth and planning a playpen for babies to roll around in as they nursed, slept, scrapped and gained their sight. AND all went well until the little bundles of joy decided to leave the warmth of mother's womb and enter the big bad world.
Since this isn't something Grammy can dwell on let it be said that Grammy called the vet then they took a frantic taxi ride once she'd seen Fidelia's struggles and heard her screams of pain.
Trusting the cat-whisperer vet implicitly Grammy returned home to await the outcome. It was an all-day struggle for mom and vet to get those babies out of such a wee girl alive. Sadly, the first one was lost. Later that evening Mom and four feisty, miniscule but scrappy, hungry balls of pending mischief were delivered and settled into the nursery.
Then began the adventure of a lifetime. Daily scraps over one teat. Of course, the other seven milking stations were viable and on standby but all four floundered and fought for the same one. Grammy intervened and moved them to other spigits but cries and flailing ensued as they fought their way back to the choicest meal. Eventually all got fed and once satisfied the former scrappers curled up together and napped until the next feeding when the feuding began once more.
Within a few days Etude, still blind for another week, was crawling up the blanket of the nest seeking out his as yet, invisible world. To protect him Grammy placed pillows on the floor outside the nesting basket so when he flopped over the edge he'd be cushioned. He and his sister, Musetta were intrepid explorers, though blind, and otherwise helpless. Determined, they were on the move. Grammy got a workout keeping an eye on those two.
She imagined that was bad enough but once the eyes of all four opened all H-e-double hockey sticks broke out. Those scraps of fur were on the move. The legs were wobbly but there was no stopping them. Out of the nesting box, onto the pillows they flopped. Then a scramble/flop/crawl to the bed where they dug in their wee claws and climbed the sheer cliff to view their new world.
Such exhilaration. All four would climb one behind the other then torpedo off the bed like flying squirrels. Unlike those fliers they would belly-flop onto more pillows that Grammy had fortuitously scattered around the bed. Repeat and repeat once more before flopping into a comatose nap-heap.
And she thought this was chaotic … these continuous rounds of climb, fly, flop, scramble, repeat. At least they were contained to the nursery room. They were nothing compared to what was to follow.
For the next 5 months the household, Fidelia, Mousie and I withstood the onslaught … more fights over the teat of preference, wrestling matches in milked-down food saucers, tiny pawprints tracked throughout the condo, and marathons around the condo with scrambles up and over upholstery, across Grammy's softer bits. lap or occasionally through her hair if she got in the way.
Fidelia tolerated their mischief well... giving them smacky-paws when necessary but otherwise left them to explore their new world. Mousie and I retreated to our favourite shearling-lined chair (pre-Moth Day) out of the line of fire. And Grammy was kept busy mopping floors, washing dishes, bathing food-caked kittens and herself, changing bedding in the nursery and doing the never-ending laundry.
Just as suddenly as they arrived sister and brother pair, Musetta and Scherzo, were spayed/neutered and adopted together followed soon after by Fidelia. All to good homes. Grammy has kept in touch with the 'purrents' and all three are thriving, happy. The household settled down into a less frenzied state of two mischievous boys, Mousie and me. But that was just the calm before the storm, so to speak.
Stay tuned next week for further musings....
Comments are always welcomed.
by Whiskers, Matriarch of Mischief
Good afternoon, friends. Whiskers taking a turn dictating to Grammy after a short personal hiatus. We started this blog around 9 this morning but Grammy dozed off in her chair.
I took the opportunity to sneak food from the boys' dishes, over-ate and then had to nap too. All that food needed time to digest before brain could re-engage. While I napped the old girl connected with an old friend on FB Messenger, followed by litter scooping duty and was worn out again so needed another nap. *Groans*
We just haven't been able to coordinate our time together. *Yawn* Time for my nap. Zzzzzzz
More time lapses. *Snort, snuffle, shakes head to wake up* Yahoo! It looks like Grammy is awake too. Let's get this blog written. *cracks the whip* Come on Grammy, hobble to it.
Oh no! Now I've forgotten. What was today's topic? Does anybody remember? Rondo? Etude? Sweetie? Mousie? Grammy? Hmmm. Somebody? Come on, help me here.
Dear Friends, it looks like today's blog is a bust! Some days the little grey cells just don't want to work. Even trying to get everyone's help today it was not happening. My brain has taken a sabbatical. I apologize.
Our only desire now is to …
love you and wish you all the best Valentine's Day ever.
Comments are welcomed.
by Sweetie, Chronicler of nothing much.
Friends, We apologize for being late with our 'blog' today. A couple of things came into play here. One was the old girl, herself. She slept in and had to rush off to her appointment this morning and only had time to feed us and upload Aunty L's blog before hightailing it out of here.
Now that word 'hightail' begs an question and hopefully an answer ... Grammy doesn't have a tail so how can she hightail it? Well, Whiskers explained it to me. She says hightailing means to hurry up and get out of there and doesn't have anything to do with having a tail.
Well, I, Sweetie, Googled it.... and guess what! It does have to do with a tail. It is originally about when white-tailed deer see danger they lift their white tails and run for their lives. *Giggles* I'd love to see Grammy lift her tail and run out of here like a deer... but her hightailing is more like a tortoise lumbering across a field. Not at all graceful, nor swift.
Not only that, if she did do a hightailing manoeuvre she'd probably take a swan-dive... and not a graceful one either. Hey, the woman is a disaster on two feet. Pity the poor neighbours, people on the street and us. But we have learned to steer clear of those disasterous feet. Smart little duffers, we are.
Okay so enough of her hightailing it out of here. After her appointment to loosen up stiff muscles, tendons, ligaments etc. she headed back home to us... and we planned to work on the blog with her but now she was like loose jello ... with a mushy brain which was of no use to us. We had to plop her into her chair, turn on a heating pad and let her sleep away the afternoon. I tell you, these old folk are something else.
So friends, It looks like we have no blog today. Nope! But we will share this with you... For an old codger she isn't half bad. No siree. She has her good points -especially when doling out the food rations and giving cuddles.
See you next week and this time hopefully with something to say.
We love you, friends. And don't forget to smile, it may be the only smile someone sees today and it will mean so much to that person.
Comments are always welcomed.
Five Cats, Five Personalities, One Goal - Mischief & Mayhem.