I just finished re-reading Tailchaser’s song after more than thirty years. I can say without reservation that it is worth a read for anyone who loves fantasy and at least likes cats. But it is also surprisingly good at making me read poetry without complaint.
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Sometimes I look back on something I bought a few years ago and ask myself “why?” But today I hit a mental block that stumped both myself and my wife- we own a baby gate that neither of us could make sense of.
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Irene had some of her medical tests last week. Included in that was a radiograph- basically, you are injected with radioactive stuff, then you have to wait for three hours before the actual scan is taken. It shows bones, bone density, and bone lesions quite well which is why Irene gets it every three months or so.
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I saw the trailer for the Masters of the Universe reboot movie. I was expecting crappy schlock, but it looks like prime grade stuff.
I went into some detail early in 2024 regarding Irene’s cancer diagnosis and how the treatment had progressed to that point. Back then we were still figuring out our ‘new normal’, and although the outcomes were positive it was still a very uncomfortable situation.
Not much has changed medically since January but I thought it was appropriate to give an update on how our life with cancer is progressing.
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I liked this ‘thankfulness’ post over on Vixiss’ Vicissitudes blog today, and wanted to do my own. So here goes
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Irene and I have moved to Castlegar from our home in Surrey. And as of today, our old home is ‘sold’ (although the possession date is later in June).
Above is a picture of our new place, and the rest of the body of the post explains a bit more about our relocation process.
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It is the end times… the robot apocalypse has begun. My home has been invaded by a horrifying machine that (shudder)… cleans my floors!
I lost a dear friend on Wednesday, November 5. We lived under the same roof for over two decades, and the fact that he wore fur and occasionally killed and ate rodents in his youth did nothing to detract from our bond. I’m talking about my cat, Tuxedo.
The Spring
I first met Tuxedo when he was six months old, and I was thirty. Irene and I had been living on our acreage East of Sherwood Park for a couple of years, and decided it was time to add to our furry family. We went to the SPCA in Edmonton, and Irene had already picked out a funny-looking, emaciated female cat who had recently given birth (Sasha). I was still wandering about, and walked past several cat kennels when I felt a tug on my arm. A small grey and white paw was reaching out between the bars and had caught my shirt: I looked in this child-cat’s eyes and couldn’t walk away. I unlocked the bars of the cage and took him in my arms, and that was that. Tuxedo, née Sylvester, was mine, and I was his.
There is some debate in our household regarding whether we adopted Tuxedo in the October of 1994, or April of 1995. Either way, he was born in 1994, and to say we met 20 years ago is sufficiently accurate at this point.
Today we started on the first dose of immunotherapy injections for our cat, Elcee. She’s had problems with strange acne-like skin eruptions on her face and chin for years, but the last three years (Elcee is ten years old) they’ve gotten progressively worse.
During her last episode, the rash got into her ears and around her neck and shoulders: she licked her hair completely off in those areas, and ended up with secondary (bacterial) skin and ear infections. It took weeks of treatment to get that cleared up, and the vet advised that we consider allergy tests. As it turns out, Elcee is allergic to a lot of things…