It's Plan E for My Studio Assistant

On the way to One Love this afternoon, we stopped at a red light right in front of Glenwood's old house.  I pointed it out to her, but she was preoccupied.

Glenwood's ear infection has worsened.  It's been delivering more goo and smell the last week.  I really should have bought stock in J&J before I started with all these Q-Tips.  Hundreds.  So it's on to plan E.  On Tuesday I'll leave her at One Love for the day.  Dr. Humphreys is going to sedate her, take x-rays, and explore whether there's a polyp deep in her ear or something under her palate that's holding in this infection.  Dr. Ryan will check in.  If there a polyp it'll have to come out, though probably on another visit.  If there isn't, the doctors might recommend surgery on her ear canal.  Dr. Humphreys' only other idea is that she has a food allergy.  Oy.

She is one lucky kitty, with so many people caring about her so much.  And I am one lucky kitty-caretaker, with One Love caring about both of us so much.

On another front, my home studio is newly upgraded, making it a much, much better place to work.  Glenwood is my self-appointed studio assistant.  I gave her Spike's blue seat of honor, but once I put a rug down she prefers to be closer to me.

When I get up, she keeps my seat warm.

She also empties the miniature trash can that my Boston studiomate, Marty Epp-Carter, gave me.

Timmy, meanwhile, continues to do what he does best at his middle age:  sleep.  But how does he hold this position?  My brother thinks he looks like weatherman Al Roker now that he's lost five pounds running from Glenwood.  He has more skin than body.  He is such a love.  And alternately tortured and embraced by Glenwood.