Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
Sam has always been a lap cat, here snuggled into my lap as we curled up on my love seat. I’ll let you guess where he is as I type this. We started him on antibiotics today to see if it will improve the digestive issues that have haunted him the past month, here’s hoping.
Maybe you can explain it to me, little one, as I don’t understand it at all.
I have this romantic notion that at least one hair from each of our pets will follow me all the days of my life, so that on my deathbed I will have a piece of them with me. A romantic notion but not a realistic one. In day-to-day life, however, I’m quite confident I do carry each of our current pets with me, and Trixie is doing her duty to make sure of it as she sleeps on my clean T-shirt. In the picture below, Trixie doesn’t usually sleep in my desk chair but she loves the feel of these hoodies.
Sam in early 2008 enjoying his freedom in the house at large after we adopted him and kept him in isolation with Emma for a couple of weeks. He’s had diarrhea the past month and we got the first clue as to why from a fecal sample, he doesn’t have nearly as much healthy bacteria as he should despite taking probiotics the past month. He’s going to start some antibiotics soon if he doesn’t improve, as he may have some bad bacteria that’s keeping the good bacteria from thriving. If there’s a silver lining to getting laid off a month ago, in addition to being able to take Ellie on long walks each morning, it’s that I’ve been here to take Sam to the vet and get his medicines and give him second chances at eating when he’s not feeling well. He actually put on a little weight this month, not what you’d expect from someone with his condition, so the good news is he’s getting the nutrients from his food. After what we went through with Emma, that’s a big relief.
But I’ll be a lot happier when we know what is going on.
A camouflage evolved for thousands of years allows the orange tabby to blend into his environment, the hardwood floors of the Pacific Northwest. Sam as a kitten in 2007, a few days after we adopted him.
No Sam, dinner is still 40 minutes away. He gets hungry about 60 to 90 minutes before dinner and climbs into my lap and studies my every move, sometimes making biscuits on my stomach to suggest dinner must have been hours ago and I have clearly forgotten to feed him.
Sam atop the scratching post a few days after we adopted him in 2007, probably watching Emma play with her mice (we adopted them on the same day).
ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! Sleep wherever you want! Sorry I asked!
Boolie 