Today we have progress ... Roy is eating! Of course, he is 1) not eating in the kitchen and 2) not eating on a cat plate, instead preferring a nice dinner plate and 3) eating thinly sliced free-range no-salt turkey from Whole Foods, a mere $9.99/lb.

Which of course begs the question ... is Roy really sick or JUST NOT SPOILED ROTTEN ENOUGH?

Thanks for the kind words, Roy and his person are very appreciative. (Soba is wondering where her g-ddamn fan club is however and plotting ya'lls death.) Roy is still sort of falling over from time to time, but manages to work up enough strength to scratch me baldheaded twice a day during what we lovingly refer to here as OH GOD I HAVE TO GIVE YOU THESE ANTIBIOTICS PLEASE STOP HURTING ME.

I have to go now, his water dish is getting tepid. Thank you.

P.S. Yes. In my mind, crazy runs a spectrum, one end being minor (freak outs, PMS, oddities) and the other end being "wears a bra on one's head, speaks into a Pepsi can and directs traffic in her nightgown." I may have possibly seen that kind of crazy when I was about seven years old and apparently? Made a colorful impression on me.