The 19 lb cat, though he has a bald patch on his back, has stopped licking. Apparently he had fleas, and is on medication. For the first time in weeks, he’s back to purring like a giant engine, lying on top of bodies, and smothering us while we sleep.
|Sunshine and a Latte|
Jim is busy bringing home the bacon, but returns at night to a calmer home. When the back door opens, the pets run to greet him. Two clumsy bodies for the price of one - that is Jim’s Happy Hour.
I’ve finally calmed down, (now that’s it been a week since treatment), to a near-ish normal level of lunacy. No more putting milk in the cupboard, or wondering if I’ve shrieked, rather than spoken, into the phone. Also, I had a massage yesterday, and feel like I left some of the crazy on the table.
Last night Jed and I made a triumphant return to the dog park. Jed sprang thorough the gate as though he’d just spotted a meadow full of badgers. I was wearing my wig and cap, and I sidled over to my one friend who knows about my Bald-itis. It had been a while since I’d been in, and most people associate me with short hair, rather than the chin length bob that I was sporting. I told my friend I was bracing myself for comments. She laughed and said not to worry, “Everyone here is too self-absorbed to notice.”