What a week it's been. I still can't kick this cold, but I am starting to feel the upswing toward better health. I will probably go to work tomorrow, but I just didn't have the energy to do so today. I also don't want to make people in my quarters sick. Better safe than sorry. Lots of sleep, lots of water, lots of sleep. I've had Oliver keeping me company. He's my youngest of my cats-he's about 3 years old and my loving nickname for him is Shithead. He doesn't have 9 lives, but about 42 of them. He was from a litter of cats that were rescued from docks in NYC; I think that's why he loves water. Brian thinks he's part dog, and I tend to agree. This is a picture of him the day I got him. Debbie in my office took it; he's hiding in a basket with my stuffed Hawaiian kitty. The sweetest thing, with his blue eyes and awesome markings. it looks like he's wearing brown lipstick.
He is such a climber. Somehow he ended up a few times on the top of the shower railing in the bathroom. Many a time I've found him on the book shelf when you walk in the house, having climbed up my great-grandmother's desk (with scratch marks as proof), or on the cornice in my bedroom. That was okay when he was younger, but when he topped 12 lbs, all I would do is picture him bringing the cornice down onto the glass top desk with my computer, printer, nearby TV...you get the picture, it's not a pretty one. 
The other reason I think he's got the extra lives in him is that a few months ago he somehow got one of my large Big Eye Needles stuck in his cheek and neck. The vet said he'd never seen anything like it in the 18 years he'd practiced. The long and short of it is that they couldn't find it during surgery, so now he's got stories to tell all the other girl cats about his war wounds, which you'd never know he has now. He's unbelievable.
But he makes things a lot better with Pearl not being around. He can make a maze of yarn in no time flat and will do whatever he can to get me to pet him, such as burrowing his nose into my hand until I give in and give him some lovin'. While it has been the pits to be home and sick and to deal with the loss of Pearl, it's been nice to have the unconditional love of this crazy furball. Minnie just sits in her little bed on the chair and watches and sleeps from the sidelines.
But he makes things a lot better with Pearl not being around. He can make a maze of yarn in no time flat and will do whatever he can to get me to pet him, such as burrowing his nose into my hand until I give in and give him some lovin'. While it has been the pits to be home and sick and to deal with the loss of Pearl, it's been nice to have the unconditional love of this crazy furball. Minnie just sits in her little bed on the chair and watches and sleeps from the sidelines.
His eyes have changed to a beautiful gold, but he's still got that brown lipstick-y mouth and his chirpy meow; maybe there's some bird in him, in addition to the dog? Well, he's still my Shithead...er, I mean Oliver, the Wonder Cat.
