Arthur and Merlin, watching out for squirrels and birds and speeding cars and children and leaves and…

They are from the same litter. Arthur is 9 pounds and Merlin is 19. About 4 years old now.

I do believe this cat is thinking:

“One word, just one freakin’ word, and the claws come out!“

Still not back to work, so spent the afternoon annoying cats with my digital camera. Here’s our cat house today:

Patches, our Torty. The old lady at 15 or so.	Merlin, Arthur’s littermate, and around 18 pounds
Shadow, at 13, the old man	Arthur, Merlin’s littermate, and about 8 pounds.
Miss Kitty, our third rescued kitty. Six toes on the front paws.

Thank you, God, St. Francis, St. Jude, Mary Our Mother, et al.

Smokey is coming home tonight. She’s eating, drinking, peeing and pooping, and grooming. We’ll have to give her frequent meals and we can do that. It looks like we will have our old friend around a bit more. She’s not vomiting, and we’ll worry about the abdominal mass and the thyroid later. It sounds like she can be Smokey for a while longer, our friend, the matriarch, etc. We both agree that if she can lead a relatively normal life, she should be home.

She’s a tough old broad. I’m glad we’ll have her companionship a little longer.

X-rays show a mass in the belly. She’s drinking on her own. If she keeps it down, there’s some slim hope that we can get her to eat. If not, it’s time to be merciful.

DAMN!