Spring morning. I wake up and peer over the top of my pillow. Hattie sits in the window enjoying the scents of the yard. I love this little cat. And little she is, she was down to six pounds at her last vet appointment. She's doing better though. Dr. Mary's brilliant suggestion of just adding a little water to her food, since we couldn't get her to drink water, has helped a lot. Namely, her fur looks full and shinier again, and we are having fewer instances of finding little bits of poop everywhere. Actually, we stopped calling it poop and began calling it dark matter. It's a lot more pleasant to just say, "Oh, there's dark matter on my pillow," than to say, "Good GOD, there is POOP on my PILLOW!" She's the only other girl in the house though, so I tell her she has to hang on. She seems to be doing better….right now, as I write, she is curled up next to me in the chair purring loudly. My Hattiegirl.


When I left her in the window and went downstairs, Rascal was sitting on the newel post, which always seems like a good start to the day for me. Bob, of course, was lying next to Ernie looking adoringly at him. Some things never change.




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