September 28, 2013
Kitimus has no teeth, a
lightweight frame and wobbly walk. She is about seventeen years old, no spring
kitty! I handle her, giving her a good once-over and trim her nails so they are
not snagging on delicate clothes, the furniture and bedding. She is not quite
accustomed to being picked up and cuddled but I am forcing myself on her since
I miss Grill and Moose. She’ll get used to it. Either that, or so damned
relieved when I leave the area. She has an inactive tyroid issue, kidney problems
and obviously cannot tolerate solid food, though she does gum it up when we add
the kibble to her mush. She survived the flea brigade and is fluffy and white
where it is supposed to be white.
Drove the unfamiliar treacherous
VW van in the rain to meet clients this morning. Had to toodle down the
freeway, sweat it out at the lights and down steep hills (you are aware of
Seattle’s famous up and down neighborhoods?) creeping along to Kent. I took my time but got turned around (what a
surprise, for those of you who know me well,) and had to ring my friends for
assistance. I took yet another wrong turn and showed-up relatively disheveled
but calm. My bangs were in an entirely different style by the time I pulled
into the joint. At least they recognized me.
Dinner tonight at the
local Mexican restaurant with a buddy, champion friend and so much in common it
hurts. Tomorrow is a trip on the ferry, one of my all-time favorite things on
the planet. I intend to hang out on the deck, wind whipping my ears like a
Basset.
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