A Tad More Social

In the Good Company of Ellen's Book

Glenwood has been out a little more over the last 24 hours.  She is eating some, but tends to make respiratory noises. I'm combing and petting her a lot when she wants it; I don't want her to think I only come at her with Zymox and Q-Tips, though I know that is in her little fur head.  We're going to One Love Monday.  Don't tell her.  I'm monitoring her accounts closely.

It Has to Be Said

My fear and my growing belief are that Glenwood is starting her decline.  She is not regaining her energy or strength.  She is thin, moves slowly, bathes little, curls up in strange corners, pees in the bathtub, breathes noisily at times, and sleeps all the time.  She both wants and avoids me - wants for the combings and petting; avoids because of the ear cleanings.  I will call Dr. Ryan.

Trail of Toys

Feather, Deconstructed Sculpture, Resting Q-Tip, Resting Grace

Glenwood lives a quiet life now.  She is better, but she is not fine.  I think she is still getting better, and so I let her be, comb her, feed her on demand, and tackle her daily to fill her ears with Zymox then dig out ... plenty.  If there's a positive side to all this, it's that Grace has discovered Q-Tips.  She self serves whenever I open the cat pantry:

My job is to throw the Q-Tip in one of two ways:  either an underhand toss across the apartment so she can retrieve it ...

... or a toss straight up so she can leap up to catch it.  I took about a million pictures trying to capture her mid-air, but uh no.  I'll keep trying.  Whichever version of the game we are playing (she chooses), she is 1000% focused, and my house is littered with Q-Tips in various states of well-being.