Update. Without photos.

I've been wanting to update. I've been wanting to post photos. I just can't seem to be awake in my house long enough to find the camera, take the photos and sit down at the damn computer.

So, photoless, I update.

Zoe is doing much better. So much better in fact that a pie plate (with pie still on it!) was knocked off the top of the refrigerator. I also come home every day to the taped-up cupboard where the garbage lives wide open. Sometimes with garbage on the floor. And the daily struggle for dominance between Sabre and Zoe is back up to normal levels. We've got another week of anti-biotics, and two more doses of Prednisone, and another follow-up visit to the vet on Tuesday. There was one recurrence of Zoe having a dizzy spell, after (while chasing Sabre) she bonked her head on the bottom of the coffee table, but it passed quickly and didn't keep them from moving on to I Am The Boss, No I Am The Boss, Round 478. Dorky cats.

I finished (and wore) my first pair of non-vanilla socks. For those unfamiliar with the term, that means they are the first socks I've done with a pattern on the leg and top of the foot. They're Roza's Socks by Grumperina from the latest Interweave Knits. I'm now on incarnation 4 of a pair I am designing myself, using Debbie Bliss Cashmerino in some light orange colour. I am also using up the ends of my first four pairs of socks by knitting in stripes. It's fun! They're gonna be a butt-ugly combo of blue/brown, red with multi-coloured flecks, purple/blue, and olive-drab green.

A couple of weeks ago I said good bye to Shadoe, my husky dog. We got him as a puppy when I was in Grade 12. That means that he was somewhere in the neighbourhood of 17 years old, a fantastic age for a dog. When I went off to University he stayed with my parents. When I finished University, I moved to Toronto to live in a succession of apartments, which is no way for a big dog who loves to run to live. So he stayed with my Mom, and moved with her to the farm when she and her partner bought one. He was very, very happy there, and I think that (along with the fact that my mom and step-dad take very good care of their animals) is why he lived to a venerable age. They had him put to sleep because even though his he had arthritis and was deaf, and probably mostly senile, and they kept hoping he'd just go in his sleep, his heart was very strong. So we finally all said good bye to him. It was hard, but he was getting to the point where his pain wasn't manageable anymore, so it was time, maybe past-time. I'm very happy that my mom and step-dad took such good care of him, I think much better than I would have been able to. So thank you to them, and thank you to Shadoe for being such a lovely boy.

Yesterday I spent the day at The Church of the Holy Trinity with about 100 other witches doing meditation/trancework/storytelling with Starhawk! It was a wonderful, if tiring day. There were epiphanies had, and laughter with my friends, then a spiral dance and a good dinner. It was really nice to see that there is a community of people out there who think/believe in a similar way to me.

This weekend is going to be busy. Grocery shopping then ritual tonight, band rehearsal, then a going away party tomorrow, then on Sunday I will attempt to cram two week's* worth of laundry, weeding of my garden, other assorted housework and a visit from Mom into one day.

So there probably still won't be any photos. :)


*Somebody please tell me whether the apostrophe here is wrong. Please!

Send more tuna! aka My Cat is on Prednisone

Zoe has something called a vestibular disorder. Basically, her head is tilted to the left side, and she's walking funny.

On Sunday she tried to jump up onto the kitchen counter but missed (missing is fairly normal, we don't have the most gracefull of cats in this household). I think on the way down she bashed her head. When she landed she started to do this thing that looked like she was trying to swim across the linoleum. We kept an eye on this behaviour, and talked to a friend who works in the vetrinary industry, and kept keeping an eye on things. Around midnight Zoe started yowling and looking for somewhere to hide, so we called the emerg vet clinic, packed up the cat and booted it to Cambridge.

The original diagnosis was bilateral vestibular disorder, which means the peripherhal vision in both eyes was affected. It's a neurological condition that can be brought on by anything from polyps in the ear canal to trauma to a stroke. Zoe spent the night at the emerg vet, then we picked her up at 7:30 am and tried to get a bit of sleep before going to our regular vet in the afternoon. The emerg vet had suggested trying to get Zoe in to see a neurologist, but by the time we got to see our own vet, the condition had improved enough that it's only affecting the left side of Zoe's head now and our vet felt that a $4000 MRI probably wouldn't tell us anything really pertinent. Whew!

So now I have added duties to the cat herding roster. In addition to needing to give Sabre a bit of aspirin every other day so that we don't have a repeat of the leg incident from last summer, Zoe gets two antibiotic pills a day, and one Prednisone pill a day.

Send tuna (for Zoe), send Bailey's (for me).