Another day and night of fighting chest pains. I’ll be glad when this episode is finally over. But there is supposed to be more wind, then rain this week, so I can expect more of the pain.
Sparkle spent a good night, and didn’t play too much, but she is still in the closet.
We have not been cat people, mostly because Mrs. ArGee is deatly allergic to them. So we were a little non-plussed when our daughter rescued a cat. She was taking care of it on her own but apparently didn’t learn much about them (although she certainly doted on it).
She thought it was normal for the cat to occasionally drag it’s bottom on the floor. When she found out it wasn’t she had to take the cat to it’s very first visit to the vet.
Now the cat is now hiding under the bed. I’m not sure which has been more traumatic, the indignity of having her openings probed or the vet teaching my daughter how to hold a cat that doesn’t want to be held. The cat had basically run things until this appointment.
I’ve never understood why people name things that won’t come when you call them, but she calls this cat Kiwi.