A week in review.

Too tired to blog properly. So I will steal make use of someone else's brilliance and summarise.


And the days when you step out of bed to realise the cat is poorly again would be some of them. As would the days when you step out of bed and remember your great aunt is still dead.
And I think, probably, the day when you get out of bed to a phonecall stating that your grandmother, who was visiting to sort out things for your great aunt, has had a stroke and is now in hospital probably also counts as an every side of the bed is wrong kind of a day.



more animals

Goway and Comeback suffer from this too. Only unfortunately in their case this is combined not with utter lethargy but with much miaouwing and silent baleful stares. One cat very underweight, supposed to be putting it on and fed little and often. One big fat pudding of a cat determined not to let this happen.

Goway's clearly feeling a bit better. He has more energy. Not enough energy to climb any higher than a low bed, and not enough to sit on a lap, but just the right amount of energy to scratch himself raw and bleeding again. I think we'll take it that the steroids were working then. Excuse me whilst I find something to remortgage scrabble under the settee to find some way of paying for them.



This is the face of a cat who, like Goway, is being force fed antibiotics from a syringe. I'm still mildly entertained by the fact that a week's worth of antibiotics is less than 5mls (one teaspoon). One small dose certainly goes a long way when the cat it is intended for gains the ability to foam at the mouth and run around the house for ten minutes after each dose though. I question the benefit. On the plus side, he is able to run around the house without collapsing. I think this is good.

This is disjointed. I am tired. Mog won't go to sleep, and, having had a lovely peaceful day, is now choking and drowning once more. Little Fish is calling every few minutes "You loaf me Mummy?" and needing to know why, and my bed is evidently calling louder to me than either of theirs is to them.

Oh, I have found a way of curing Little Fish's clinginess. Every morning for a month it has been "You not leave me, Mumma, I not go to school, you not go out" or any similar permutation. This week school has been cancelled. "I not go school aday Mumma". "Nope, no school today, it's closed". "OOOOOHHHHHhhhhhhh!!!!!!! I wanna go school NOW NOW NOW".

Joy.
I did get a whole childless hour in church though. Lovely.

Pray for my Grannie and my family please, those who do.
Take care,
Tia