A blog about New York City, my books, and my cats. Mostly.
The oncologist said I need to give the chemotherapy a month. But Buddy only ate a little today and minutes ago he completely diarrhetic. That said, he does seem better to me. He’s out and about more. Here he was earlier today for instance, sitting my lap looking at … YOU!
Chemo Cat is still beautiful.
Tomorrow I’m going to buy Meow Mix as Citizen Reader suggested. Oh, and he ate some of the Friskies that Melissa suggested. He licked the sauce part and left the rest. It’s something.
There’s my sister-in-law Karen, Karen in North Carolina, and Karen in Indiana. Any other Karens out there?
UPDATE: Karen in Canada!
And, we have another birder, Barbara in Vermont! Behold the tufted titmouse at her feeder.
I took this last night, walking home from choir rehearsal. This is looking up 5th Avenue from the corner of 11th Street. It’s blurry, but I like it. Snow!!
Chemo-Cat Update: I’m supposed to wear gloves when I handle Buddy’s chemo pills, but the first time I opened the bottle I spilled all the pills and picked up every last one with my bare hands. “Oops.” Buddy is a great pill-taking cat, but when I put the gloves on to give him the chemo-pill he freaked. God knows what memory that evoked. I think I may forego the gloves.
A few seconds of handling this tiny pill. How dangerous can it be really? (Boy does that ever have the ring of “famous last words.”)
Anyway, I’m really looking forward to watching last night’s Lost!
I think I credited Betsy with taking the woodpecker picture, when it was really Karen, is that right? And you guys are sisters?? Did I know that?? I’m sorry if I missed the obvious and you already told me this!
And check out this picture of Karen’s bluebird. STUNNING. STUN! NING!
This picture is from yesterday. I’ve since taken the scarf off. That fog on the left is from the humidifier that is on 24/7 in my apartment.
So Buddy didn’t really eat much tonight. I’ll see if he eats more when I get home. I’d rather he had eaten well, but I’m not going to panic. Or at the very least not appear like I’m panicking. I didn’t break down and give him babyfood because the oncologist felt it was time he ate catfood again. He loved the Hills I/D yesterday and this morning, but not tonight.
I’ll pick up a selection of different catfoods tomorrow, focusing on whatever looks irresistible and is probably crap. I’ll get some tuna too. And some chicken to cook. (Always fun for a vegetarian.)
Tonight is choir practice and we’re working on Brahms Requiem. I’m just so glad I’ll be able to sing about death without it feeling so imminent. Even though it is, but you know what I mean. If it weren’t for this optimistic oncologist I’d be fighting tears all rehearsal long and thinking, “Buddy’s going to die, Buddy’s going to die,” and “the last time I sang this Veets died.” Something that is usually so uplifting would have been filled with doom.