Friday. Rainy and cold.
Firefly is back at the vet’s because her tail ISN’T WORKING. I can see a tiny hump at the base where she’s apparently trying to lift it, but it’s not moving. I played with her, and while she was happy to Stalk the Wily Braided Leather Cord, her tail didn’t move — it followed her, because it’s attached, but there were no twitches at the very tip, as is usually seen on a Cord Hunt. I stroked her tail and the base of her spine and she’s not in pain; and I can’t begin to imagine how you break your tail, but — vet. Cat Not Right.
So, that’s upsetting. Again.
Also, Past Me decided it was necessary that Present Me be alerted to the fact that today is the day I am as old as Steve was when he died, and put it on the calendar. WTF, Past Me?
Sarah is due in about an hour. I need to find something to eat, and a cup of tea. Oh, and pick up the house.
Good thoughts for Firefly, if you have them to spare, would be most appreciated.