I had the day off from hospital visiting today, since Mum's had so many other visitors and the bus doesn't run on Sundays - I needed it badly. I haven't moved today except to walk the dogs and I haven't even had the energy to Internet. I've been lying on the couch in a wet T-shirt watching Doctor Who (The Impossible Planet knocked my socks off!) and the X-Files.

I have so many friends into the X-Files, and I never got into it myself. I've seen odd episodes, but I thought it was time to give it a try in sequence. It's showing its age a little but it's a good watch - if only I could stay awake through more than an episode and a half. But that's more about the tiredness than the show.

It's brutally, punishingly hot again (70F or so. The usual warnings about telling me "that isn't really hot" apply). Just taking the dogs round the block I felt like a prawn being stir-fried. I could practically hear myself sizzle - and poor Spike is feeling it as badly as I am. It's ten-thirty at night and he's still panting. I wish I had somewhere to put his paddling pool. I wish I could revert to being completely nocturnal as my body clock is telling me to; but there's buses and hospital visiting hours - bah.

Cassie and the dogs have got to the point where she can run around the floor without the dogs chasing her. She's getting over her unnervedness at Spike's constant staring (no, it won't wear off. He still does it to Maisie after three years together) and last night she discovered that Pointer tails make good cat toys.

I think she may be further along her pregnancy than the vet guessed. She looks like she's swallowed a melon, and when I touch her her belly feels tight as a drum, and I can feel distinct kitten-shapes in there (feels like about four, but that's the purest guesswork). The area around her nipples is swollen now, too, and the weight makes her a bit clumsy trying to leap. She fell off the coffee table yesterday to her great embarrassment.

She likes to perch on the back of my computer chair, and she also likes it to sharpen her claws on. I can live with that. And I'm now being followed into the bathroom by all three of them together. One of the things they don't tell you when you get pets - you'll never piss alone again!

From: [identity profile] grave-medicine.livejournal.com


When I get home, the first thing I do is go upstairs to use the bathroom and change out of my scrubs. I never fail to find a little black nose stuck through the crack of the door. Of course, that's better than the little black paw that used to appear under my bathroom door while it was occupied.
ext_15855: (Default)

From: [identity profile] lizblackdog.livejournal.com


I always let them in. They get petted, Squish licks my knees and now Cassie twines round my ankles. Squish is fascinated by the toilet flushing.

I can't let them in there unless I'm there, though. Squish eats the soap.

From: [identity profile] grave-medicine.livejournal.com


I always open the door and ask, "May I help you?" Morna would waltz in to be loved, Ripley tried to cram her body in with me [she was close to sixty pounds when she died and not even a year old]] to be loved, Toby would throw his toy at me so we could play fetch down the hallway, and Brandy just takes off running like it's some great game.
ext_15855: (Handsome Spike)

From: [identity profile] lizblackdog.livejournal.com


...I just had a moment of sad silence for Ripley, and hugged my dogs.

When I only had Spike and I could have balls lying around on the floor (they cause fights if I leave them out now) he used to bring them to me on the toilet too. Trust a Border Collie to make sure you never have an idle moment!

From: [identity profile] grave-medicine.livejournal.com


I had one of those moments on Friday. I picked up the mail to find a letter from the microchip place reminding me to update her information and renew my membership. I'd forgotten I'd bought two years worth of coverage for her when I had her spayed and chipped. Brandy, however, roused me from my moment by grumbling at me when I disturbed her nap. Insolent brat.
ext_15855: (What You Leave Behind)

From: [identity profile] lizblackdog.livejournal.com


that's the great thing about having more than one. none of them can replace another, but at least you're not completely alone.

*love*
.

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