Well, no, the new millennium is some ways away – or past – but I didn’t have a blog eighteen years ago, so I missed using this dramatic title. I’ve decided to use it now. Catchy, eh?
2018 is counting down, even as I write this. I can’t say that it has been a good year; in fact, whenever I mention it to people, it seems the best they can come up with is that they hope 2019 will be better.
The year was a costly one for me in terms of money. But the results of the spending have been satisfactory.
Tucker had all his teeth removed. Recovering from this ordeal was tough for the little sausage; he didn’t eat much soft-food, and he refused to eat hard-food, as it hurt his tender gums. However, he has since rebounded, and now eats from the hard-food bowl as he once did. His last hurdle, eating Temptation Treats, has been crossed. In themselves, these items are unnecessary. But I tried to tempt the roly poly with them when he was refusing any other hard food. Lately, he has been consuming them whenever presented with them. As a symbol, they mean success.
This year brought me a new temporary cat. Raleigh was captured and fixed as part of the trap / neuter / return programme I initiated at my work-place. Very tame and suffering from FIV, I felt he could not be returned to the concrete wilds, in which it seemed he was not faring well anyway. He was first placed in a foster-home, but it proved rather too crowded for him, and he looked unhappy. So I brought this peach-hued boy to the Cosy Apartment to live temporarily. It was determined that he had stomatitis, which meant most of his teeth had to follow Tucker’s. This did not end the stomatitis, though, and so he has been placed on steroids, which are proving effective. Once his condition stabilises, and he sheds the cold he is currently suffering, and becomes much less timid, and can stand other humans, Peachy will be available for adoption through the rescue-group to which I belong. When people get over the goopy eye, the runny nose, the frightened introversion and the stigma of FIV, Raleigh will be snapped up in a heartbeat and taken to his permanent home. Until that day, he will stay with me, temporarily, and be a part of my family.
Parker unfortunately continues to be a worry. His appetite has diminished again, so he will be going to the doctor in the new year. He is eating enough to stay alive, but he will undoubtedly lose more weight. As well, according to his latest ‘curve’, his blood-glucose numbers, though adequate, are not what they have been. Until a diagnosis can be given, my sturdy-boy will receive whatever food he will eat. Right now, a full stomach beats a smart menu.
But I cannot complain too loudly. Despite my concern over Parker, and the money chewed up by Tucker’s and Raleigh’s teeth, we in the Cosy Apartment are doing well. I am still employed, we are housed in warmth and comfort; we have food and entertainment. Others, even those whose blogs I follow, have reason to curse 2018 much more than I. Yet they don’t. They remain hopeful and helpful, and others, human and animal, benefit from their positive attitudes.
I have already received from my internet friends many wishes of a happy year to come; any who have visited this blog with such messages need not repeat them. I appreciate each, and will reciprocate individually. In the meantime, allow me to hope, on behalf of all the residents of the Cosy Apartment, that the year to come is peaceful, fruitful and happy.