…. has been resumed. I’m not letting go of her though!
Thank you for your good wishes; they really helped. I managed a decent breakfast today, but am going to stay on this sofa arm all day again.
Millie keeps trying to snuggle in, but I’m just not in the mood. She looks worried. Rachel tells her that my head is almost better, and just to be patient. But I’m the patient!
I am miserable today. I got into a fight in the middle of the night, and Rachel saw that I wasn’t happy this morning. She smoothed my fur, which was sticking up where I had been scratched, she felt my head and my chin, and heard a nasty crackly squelchy sound. Just there, on top of my head.
So I had to go to the vet. The bite on my head had let some air in, under my skin. I was poked and prodded; I had an injection, my teeth were examined, and I was weighed. I weigh 3.2 kilograms because I don’t eat very much. Rachel told the vet I had been starved when I was young, and was difficult to feed, but I think Rachel’s judgement is skewed because of Catkin the Huge….
Rachel says I will feel better soon. But I’m still miserable now.
It was five years ago today that I came to live with Rachel and her family, after being captured in the Wild Wood. I didn’t like it much at first, and she called me Scooter because I would scoot under the furniture if anyone came near me. But she soon found out that I loved dinner. Rachel gives me two dinners a day, and I let her pick me up while I purr loudly. She says tonight’s dinner will be special. Can’t wait!
I also love sleeping, and can assert myself when I want a new bed.
Rachel says it shows.
Isn’t it dinnertime yet?