Not that I post often, or even regularly

[orthent]

but I'll be away from LJ for a couple of weeks, starting on the 26th, since I'm going back east to help out at home while my father recuperates from coronary artery bypass surgery

Comments

[dungeonwriter]

Your family is in my prayers. I'm only an email away if you need to talk.

Free Will (y) iam!

[orthent]

*hugs you* Right now, it sounds like it may be a challenge finding time to sit down, once I get there--let alone fire off an email! No member of my family has ever voluntarily thrown anything away, but my mom is now talking about using this visit as an opportunity for purging something like 40 years worth of clutter "because I don't want you to have to deal with it all by yourself when we're gone." I should probably be worried that she and I seem to be bonding over our shared hoarder tendencies

[walktheboat]

[orthent]

Aww, thank you for the good wishes! He seems to be doing amazingly well--over the phone, at least, he sounds like himself, which wasn't the case last week. Like a film noir character, he claims his incision only hurts him when he laughs.

I really wish I were taking William to my parents' house--and my mother, who has only ever seen dark, blurry pictures of him, would love to meet him IRL--but I don't know how a cat who has all his claws and takes his exercise by climbing the Indian screens would behave in a strange house. At home, he attacks his scratching post with all four feet when he's tense. I don't think my mother's enthusiasm for "her grandcat" would survive an attack on her living room upholstery. (Both my childhood cats were declawed, but I didn't want to do that to Will.) So he'll have to spend two weeks at the vet's--luckily, she's one of those people who have the gift of meriting animals' trust, and she's put together a team of similar colleagues

[walktheboat]

[orthent]

I'd love it if William would just go to sleep for the duration of the trip, but if he decided to yowl...well, I grew up with Siamese cats, but when it comes to vocalizing, William could give them a run for their money. I left him at the vet's, with a shirt of mine for the smell of home, a 20-day supply of his food (in case I'm delayed), and a tub of his favorite Greek yogurt for daily treats. (I usually have to defend my yogurt from him, so I thought he'd enjoy some of his own. He likes to lick it off the spoon--or a finger.) The worst part of boarding him is always the look of reproach he gives me--or maybe it's my guilty conscience that interprets it that way--when I put him in the cage.