Eagles Over the Kennebec

The lunchtime report: So, I did go back to the webform and threw in a non-inclusive bunch of titles, so the lawyers can have my contact information (thanks Judy Tarr!). First, and last on the day, load of laundry done; duty to the cats accomplished, walk taken.

Lunch will be baked chicken breast -- I bought six last time at the grocery, so I'm baking three and have put three in the freezer -- peas, and bread.

Have made minor tweaks and twitches at the WIP Itself, and brain has been chewing on other aspects while I do other things. I like it when I have mindless things that have to be accomplished (which would make you think I like dusting, and you would be wrong), so my brain can keep on cooking. When I had day-jobs, I used to love those big stupid collating jobs where you had to use a conference table to lay out all the pages and then just around and around and around, picking up a page at each stack until you got the end and put the collated pages down, and started back around the table. Ghod, I got a lot of writing done that way.

I currently have three coon cats in my office, and Trooper's absence is palpable, even though, were he here, he'd be asleep in his box.

The windows are open now, the sun having come out and warmed things up nicely.

After lunch -- more writing. Whee!

The evening report:  Trooper "came home" a few minutes ago. His box is back with the others. I hope I don't have to add to that collection for a long, long time. In fact, I'd rather not add to it all.

Today's work produced about 800 new words. I had to straighten out a couple of kinks in already-written scenes, in particular writing someone out of a scene that takes place before they actually arrive. For the next scene, I need to do some prep, such as researching the particulars of Scout Commander yos'Phelium's Field Judgment on the matter of independent logics, which will take me to Coon Cat Happy Hour, so we'll just call the WIP's wordage as of today at +/-71,390.

Tomorrow is my birthday, as has been the case for the 72 years previous to this one. Since it is a day of mourning and reliving horrific events for a vast number of people, I will, as has become my habit, be limiting my presence online. For those who are curious about what I'll be doing to celebrate my 73rd birthday; I will be writing. Maybe I'll get wild and crazy and order in Chinese.

Everybody stay safe.

Today's blog post title from "The Scholar and His Cat"

Thursday. Sunny and breezy.

The house is very quiet, and I've caught myself a dozen times looking up with a start, and wondering where Trooper was. This house is arranged so when I'm in the kitchen and turn my head, I can see the copilot's chair and the section of my desk where the cat napping box is located.

For eight years (in this house), those two properties were occupied in a rotation worked out between themselves. by Sprite, Belle, or Trooper -- sometimes two together in a single location. When Belle died, Sprite claimed the copilot's chair most often, except when she was on duty for Steve. Lately, Trooper has more or less had his choice. The kids sometimes use the box, but the copilot's chair was Trooper's.

Seeing both spots empty is . . . yeah.

The house suffered this same feeling of yawning emptiness when Belle left us, and when Spite did. Big cats, with big, big personalities, who had their schedules and took their responsibilities seriously.

Today, following a brief huddle upon discovering that the box had come home, but Grandpa wasn't in it, the kids have taken to nap spots that are not in my office. Each one has checked in with me at least once, So, that's good; they know the gig; it'll just take them a little while to ease into it. Firefly had the benefit of learning from Belle, Sprite, and Trooper -- she's as ready to be Top Cat as it's possible to be. The other two -- they're good kittens, and I saw Trooper working with them. They'll be fine.

Kelimcoons Sooper Trooper, December 15, 2009-September 4, 2025. He came on-board at the Lee-Miller Cat Farm and Confusion Factory on June 29, 2013. The final crossing was a sweet easing into sleep. By now, he's been in Steve's office at the new place for a good few hours, and is probably starting to ask when's Happy Hour around here, anyway?

Picture below from October 27, 2013

Video, for those who care to view it, from May 19, 2021

What went before ONE: Waiting for the vet to call back.

Yanno what? I think I won't be going to needlework tonight. I think I'll just sit here and work on entering corrections into my chapbook, which is both comforting and cerebral.

Trooper is in the box on the corner of my desk, where he can get the sun and the breeze from the open window. Tali is on the cedar chest, where ditto. Firefly is on her towel on top of the dresser in the bedroom, where she can look out the front window, and also take the breeze, and Rookie is napping in the box on the corner of Steve's desk.

What went before TWO: Only need to amend the back matter in the chapbook, then I can do a test layout, scream in horror, fall on my sword, and go back to the drawing board.

Trooper will be going to the vet on Thursday morning. He did yell for Happy Hour this evening, but gooshy food is too tough to chew, and the gravy is boring.

It's time.

I think I ate ... something for lunch, though I can't tell you what. Oh, wait. Rice. I'd made a fresh pot of rice. I'll have to do better about the evening meal, but I think I'll get the About the Authors fixed up, first, so I can move right on with being horrified by the compilation, tomorrow morning.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Was foggy when I got up. Now cloudy and sullen. Windows are open, though it's still a bit chilly. Lawn guys are next door, doing their thing.

Didn't sleep well last night, but that wasn't exactly unexpected.

Trooper had breakfast in three parts and did manage to work his way through almost an entire 3-ounce can of Fancy Feast pate, with a little end-of-plate help from Firefly.

My breakfast was cottage cheese mixed in with the tiny bit of leftover macaroni salad, which was surprisingly tasty, and black grapes. Second cup of tea brewing. I'll probably succumb to the siren call of the last cookie pretty soon.

On today's to-do: one's daily duty to the cats, and smol walk. Call the hospital, which sent me an "electronic bill" on 8/27, which I forthwith paid electronically. Yesterday in the mail, comes a paper bill for the same amount, and the same services. Ahem. O! MaineGeneral, I, too, would like to be paid twice, thrice, yea! four times, for the same work, but that so rarely happens*. I feel your ambition, MaineGeneral, and I understand it. But try it on somebody else, hey?

Otherwise, I intend to work on the chapbook -- front matter! almost forgot! Blurb! eek! -- and Trooper is signalling his readiness to get down to cases, by climbing into his box and going to sleep. So, business as usual. That's good.

I bought a tween-weather coat, courtesy of Land's End's sale. It arrived yesterday, and it's the weirdest thing I've ever seen. I mean -- it fits. It has outside pockets of sufficient depth for such things as car keys, and cold hands, but it also has . . . what seem to be meant to be inside pockets -- quite large pockets; my tablet would fit comfortably -- but. While there's stitching along the bottom of the panel, it's not attached to the coat -- by which I mean, if you put something into these pockets, it will fall out the bottom. So, yeah, I'm thinking I'll be getting out some thread, and maybe some fabric tape, for belt-and-suspenders, and just make those things usable. Probably not today, but who doesn't need projects for the future?

Ah. You can see the inside pockets, here

I think that's all I've got this morning.

How's your day shaping up?

_______
*Actually, that's a bit of a cheat. As a writer, I do occasionally get paid for the same work multiple times. I can't, however, think of one occasion when that happened at a day-job.

What went before ONE: So, fixed what I wrote yesterday, placed it in the WIP, fixed the chapter-by-chapter, and? That's probably all the writing-related tasks I'm doing today.

The WIP, still titleless, clocks in at +/-64,160 total words.

What went before TWO: Had a good time at needlework; actually remembered to stop at the grocery before I got home, have served up coon cat happy hour. Need to put away the rest of the groceries, then find something to eat.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Wednesday. Sunny and cool. Windows in my office are open.

Google initially told me that it was going to be "rainy" today. Questioned more closely, it admitted that there was a moderate chance of rain between 4pm and 5pm. Which piece of optimism Wunderground does not support, though it's teasing me with the possibilities of thunderstorms on Friday. I could use me a good thunderstorm.

Trooper has already eaten a can and a half of gooshy food. Which reminds me that I ought to weigh him.

Breakfast was pb&j on a whole wheat English muffin. Tali came by to sit on my lap and purr while I finished my first cup of tea, so that was pleasant. Lunch has not yet suggested itself.

Today's to-do includes doing one's duty to the cats, exploring online/possibly subscription exercise programs (I know this about myself: If I haven't made a commitment of some kind, I will not Just Exercise out of the abundance of my own good sense.), take a walk, and! writing.

My embroidery project at the moment was supposed to be a shirt I want to embroider, but I haven't gotten my act in gear to decide what I want to do exactly and position the designs. So, I've been working on the little piece of handwork I was taking with me when we traveled. It was "supposed" to be an outline -- by which I mean, not filled in -- but I had started to fill it in as practice for stitching fur, and for twisting two colors of thread together. Last night, I finished the center. Pic below.

What relaxation project are you working on?

Today's blog post title once more from ee cummings: "you shall above all things be glad and young"

Sunday. Bright and cool. Cats are installed in the open windows. Trooper has had his first half-a-can of cat food. Biscuits are in the toaster oven and in a minute or two I'll have to interrupt myself to heat the pan for sausage patties. Apparently, it's Indulgence Weekend. Except for the part after breakfast when I need to change out the cat boxes and vacuum the basement.

It looks like the tree guy has ghosted me. This makes the fourth tree guy to do so. I'm getting tired of the game, but -- onward to the next on the list, I guess. Maybe I can go down to the river and enlist some beavers.

So, yesterday during my ride, I thought of -- many things, actually. But one thing I recalled was the Editorial Advice, 'way back in the day, that we Branch Out in our writing, due to the Danger that our names would become inextricably entangled with this light-and-silly space opera universe that had (tanked), to the detriment of our careers.

And, I dunno, maybe she was right. It was a Theme throughout our Early Years -- that we wrote a clean enough hand and if we would just Get Serious and lean harder (a lot harder) on the science in Science Fiction, Great Things could be done for us by other people. One guy told Steve to ditch the girl, that she was doing His Career no good. And that was before I got to put my name first on the universe I had created.  Several colleagues told us to ditch the romance, because that would "alienate" True Readers of the genre.

We were too stubborn, and too enamored of our own vision to take the advice of Older and More Experienced Heads -- and here we are. Our names are inextricably entangled with that space opera universe, which is neither as light nor as silly as some folks persist in believing. It did sorta damage our credibility when we produced other projects -- they were inevitably compared to the Liaden books and invariably found wanting. Steve never did finish his own novel, though he did take Jethri under his wing when I was So. Done. With. This! Kid!

On the other hand -- I said this just recently in a speech -- we had fun. Even? A lot of fun, in our personal life, and in our professional life. Yes, there were problems, and Mistakes Were Made, but, yanno? That is life. Which begins to infringe on those other things I was thinking about yesterday, on my ride.

So! Biscuits with sausage and cheddar cheese for breakfast. It was very good, as Forbidden Treats so often are. Trooper has finished eating his first can of cat food on the day, and I'm drinking my second cup of tea as I address you here.

When my tea's done, I'll get with my chores. Salad for lunch, I think -- I have lettuce, tomato, tuna, hard boiled eggs. That sounds like a salad. Oh. And olive bread. Mmmmm, olive bread.

How's your day starting out?

Today's blog post title is, of course, from Mr. Paul Simon, "One Trick Pony," -- a live version at the link, because art is hard work.  Even when you're having fun.

There was a call for a picture of the earrings I bought yesterday.  I live to serve:  rutilated quartz, silver, gold.  With obligatory black felt woven with cat fur.  Artist Trish Conant.   (There was a comment Elsewhere that they looked heavy. In fact, they're very light.  The stones are thin, as is the metal.  I wore them for a few hours yesterday after I got home, and I forgot I had them in.  Very pleased with this purchase.)

What went before ONE: Back from the vet. Trooper was a Very Good cat, and spoke not one angry word to me on either side of the trip, and purred the whole time the doctor was examining him. He has lost more than the home scale had indicated, and right now the only thing we can do is ... guess.

So! We're guessing that he's not in pain. We're guessing that maybe? the steroids helped last time. And we're guessing that maybe? there's a low-lying infection that the antibiotic will root out.

Otherwise, he has Fading Old Cat Syndrome.

Thanks to everyone who has made suggestions for food. It's not that he's not hungry; it's that he forgets what food is halfway through eating it. And he absolutely refuses dry food (aka crunchies) which, if he has a tooth infection (and no, neither the vet nor I want to sedate him at this point), the antibiotic will nail it.

In short. We're doing what we can. And may I say that the medical literature for cats is really ... sparse.

Cat census below. Tali's fan club, and Rook's, will be interested to see that she takes up considerably less room on top of the supply dresser than he does.

What went before TWO: The chapter-by-chapter is complete. Tomorrow, I map holes and make notes. The WIP is, roughly, half-written. Deadline is April 2026.

Onward.

Trooper ate a whole! can! of Fancy Feast! Which is something like 3.2 ounces, but hey.

Sarah arrives early tomorrow, so I'll do a little bit of picking up before Happy Hour and my dinner.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Friday. Sunny and cool-so-far. Windows are open.

Sarah messages that a family emergency keeps her from making our date to have her clean this morning. Sigh.

Trooper has had about a can and a half of Fancy Feast; he has not thrown up, and is now sleeping/snoring in the copilot's chair, so something's working. Fingers crossed.

Since Sarah will not be coming by, I'll deploy some vacuum cleaners and throw in a load of laundry (which I was going to do anyway), empty the dishwasher (ditto), and get to work. I need to bake some pork chops, so I'll be heating up the oven.

Onward.

Trooper as reported is in the copilot's chair; Tali is on the supply dresser, nose to the open window; Firefly's gone downstairs, I believe, and Rook is taking advantage of Conditions.

How's everybody doing this morning?

Today's blog post title brought to you by Counting Crows, "Rain King."

What went before ONE: And as I think about Annie Lennox and Tina Turner and the other people who were abused by their creative partners . . .

I was so very lucky to have had Steve in my life: he not only supported and contributed to my art, but he stood between me and people who would have abused me because of my art, and because I "think wrong."

I say this in interviews pretty often, and will continue to say it, because it's true: I am so very fortunate to have been able to spend most of my life living in, and exploring, a universe of my own making, and being . . . happy in my art.

. . . and I'm so very sorry that not everyone can have that.

Continue in response to a comment regarding the magnitude of loss: I'm going to say this badly, so apologies in advance for being inarticulate. Yes, it's a debilitating, life-changing loss. But "loss" implies having had something.

So I look at what we had -- do I regret having had those things? No.

I look at what we did -- do I regret having done those things? Well -- no life is perfect, and certainly, as suited to each other as we were, we weren't perfect. We did stupid stuff; we were not always wise.

But I can't regret the laughter, the partnership, the places we went and the joy that we shared. I certainly don't regret the creative life we shared. We never were famous, or rich, or award-winners, but damn I'm proud of our work, our vision, and the sharing of it.

Am I sorry that what I had is gone? Yes. Yes, I am. And as painful as it is to be without the support, partnership, and love that I had, still I would rather that than what I felt when my mother died, which was, "Thank God she's gone. She can't ever hurt me again."

There was a thing we used to say -- "Better together than apart." That was true; we brought out the best in each other. And I have that experience now; it's part of the warp and weft of who I am.

And I don't regret that.

What went before: Ack.

So, I made the phone call and snagged an early December appointment, and staged the trash, but I did not do the bookkeeping. Instead, I weeded the garden, because it really is that nice outside.

The boss says it's OK to bounce the bookkeeping to tomorrow. She's cool that way...

What went before TWO: SNIPPET:

"Which improbably puts me in mind of why I chanced to come this way," Shan murmured. "Jen Sin, my dear, Miri wishes to speak with you."

Jen Sin paused with his wine glass near his lips and looked up into pale blue eyes.

Shan shook his head, Terran-style. "Unlike some others of us, I know the difference between Miri and the delm."

What went before THREE: And! The word count at the end of this round of WIP Correx is!

Sixty thousand nine hundred and ninety-five words.

I have the files that I pulled, but to preserve Auctorial Sanity, we are not counting those words.

The Weird Word List has been updated. Back ups have been made.

Tomorrow, I start with the Chapter-by-Chapter which will be the definitive map of Where the Holes Are.

Tomorrow, I am also interviewing a potential cleaner, and! It's needlework night.

Tonight, however, I'm off the clock.

Or, I will be off the clock once I wash the dishes.

Everybody stay safe; I'll see you tomorrow.

Tuesday. Cool and cloudy. Trash and recycling at the curb.

Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin and plain yogurt. Rookie would like his fandom to know that he really likes plain yogurt, and that Tali and Firefly don't like plain yogurt, because they're silly, but that's OK, because that means there's more yogurt for him.

Trooper, who has a record of enjoying a wee dram of plain yogurt from time to time, was not interested.

Trooper also informed me that the gravy which has been the only thing he would reliably eat for months now -- deserved only to be buried. I broke out the just-arrived food chopper and pureed a can of gooshy food, which is, mind you, already gooshy, and he did eat -- lap, whatever . . . most of that. He's also lost a little more than a pound since August 4, according to the home scale.

These things are concerning, to say the least.

Now that the trash is out, Trooper has eaten something, and is napping while the other cats are occupying the windows in the bedroom, I'm going to start building the Chapter-by-Chapter.

I finished reading Stone and Sky last night, and started reading the book club book. For those who have been wondering what I've been reading -- mostly rereads, and cozies -- the list is here

How's everybody holding up on the second day of the week?

Today's blog post courtesy of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, a man who knew how to build an earworm.  "Kubla Khan"

Here's a random Firefly pic as a reward for those who made it to the end of all that:
 

What went before: Wrote about 700 words, mostly expanding existing scenes. WIP currently stands at +/-62,500. I need to think about whose POV will be most fun in this next scene. I'm leaning toward Gordy, but Imma sleep on it, because my brain is tired. Along with the rest of me.

I sliced the bread and put it away (except for that one slice that fell face down in the butter, so I ate it instead of wasting it). Cleaned up the chaos of baking.

Trooper managed to work his way through one can of Fancy Feast tuna in gravy over the course of today, and now he's punching me in the arm and demanding Happy Hour, right now!

Tomorrow morning, I have an appointment with the chiropractor and while I'm out will hit the vet for more probiotic, and the grocery for the essentials: wine, cat gravy, and fruits, plus whatever looks like it will be good in terms of things to eat for a Writing Weekend.

SNIPPET: WARNING: Possible Spoiler for Diviner's Bow.

"And," Priscilla's voice came from unexpectedly near at hand. "Anthora must remember to ask her brother about his own adventures building a lifeline and how he was rescued by his eldest daughter."

"By Padi!" Anthora exclaimed, and the sullen look was quite gone from her face, replaced by startled glee. "Absolutely, you owe me that story, Shan-brother!"

"I also have an interest," Val Con murmured. Miri came to his side and slipped an arm around his waist.

"Me, too," she said.

"And I," said Ren Zel.

"Everyone shall have the story!" Shan cried over this growing tumult. "However, I insist that we proceed in an orderly manner, dealing with the most important matters first. For instance, my glass is empty. Who is with me for a refill?

Friday. Sunny and going to be hot, for Maine values &c.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs and potatoes with homemade toast and strawberry jam. Lunch may be meatballs in red sauce over bread. With cheese. Need a veggie, there. Or, yanno, not. Red sauce is a veggie, right?

Trooper has already eaten half a (smol) can of seafood feast in gravy with his meds (because I ran out of bisque and he now will not eat the stew, apparently because it has icky inclusions of real food. I need to call the vet and get some more probiotic. I've only been getting ten packs at a time, but maybe I should get more? I have no idea, but I'm guessing it will be useful to someone, if we don't finish it all, here.

Firefly joined Trooper on my lap last night and they had a little cat love fest, which is nice to see. Trooper's grandkids -- well. technically Firefly is his niece, since she came from the same cattery -- are very solicitous of him. They stop by to clean his ears and they sleep near him. Yesterday, Rook forgot himself and grabbed onto the back of Trooper's neck to wrassle, and Tali let go with a roundhouse that knocked Rook right off the bed, then she licked Trooper's ears and curled up next to him.

As previously advertised, I have an appointment with the chiropractor this morning, then some errands, then I hope to have a productive weekend of writing.

At some point, I'm going to have to get some time -- by which I mean a couple of days -- where I can focus All My Scant Brain Power on the WIP, to see what I have, which piece goes where and which pieces still need to be written. I really don't have much time-in-a-chunk right now, because of Trooper's necessities. OTOH, there are still pieces I know need to be written, so I'm good for the moment.

SPEAKING OF WRITING -- I once again remind people not -- that's NOT -- to give me "story ideas." If I need suggestions, I will ask for them. In the meantime, if your unsolicited suggestion happens to hit something I was going to do anyway, but haven't gotten to yet (not, in most cases "forgotten about"), I will drop that idea. This is because some people are stoopid and evil, and I don't want a lawsuit at this time in my life, OR to be cut off from the intellectual property that supports my household. Thank you for your attention to this minor but important detail.

So, South Park! I have to tell you I had no idea South Park was still A Thing. Also, Satan needs a better dating app.

One thing about getting up at 6 am? The morning goes on forever. I've got time to perform my duty to the cats before I head out to my appointment.

What're y'all doing today?

Below, coon cat love-in with Trooper and Firefly, and Tali and Trooper in the sun

What went before ONE: So many kindred Rock Spirits! That's So Cool.

Trooper has had another half can of "in gravy" -- seafood mix, I think -- licked up all the gravy and ate about half the food. Yesterday, I would have sworn he was on Death's door step.

What do I know?

I did clip his claws, so hopefully no more face scratches, though honestly I would prefer not to get smacked by an importunate cat at 6 am at all.

I have placed stickers on the back window of my car, which display my Affiliations. On the left, the Hubble Space Telescope sticker given me by Lauretta Nagel. And on the right, a cat fish sticker -- which is to say a cat that has really lovely koi-like fins and tail.

Funny story about that. I had a tshirt from Balticon 37, where Steve and I were Writer GOHs and Sheila and Omar Rayyan were Artist GOHs. The tshirt was of a catfish -- aka, a cat with a fish tail, and I loved it so much I wore it out. But before that day came, I was wearing it when we went down to Old Orchard Beach one day, and in the course of our Adventuring stopped at the rest area sort-of across from Eartha. And a Small Child saw my shirt and planted himself in front of me and demanded, "What kind of animal is that?" to which I answered, truthfully, "It's a catfish," and passed on. Behind me I could hear his mom -- or at least, the adult woman he was with -- saying to him, "Never mind. She was telling you a joke." I didn't hear if she clued him in to what the joke was, but I kinda hope she did...

What went before TWO:  Getting pounded awake at 6 am is not working out for me long-term. Just got up from a nap. I'm guessing there will be no writing done today.

OTOH, Trooper has eaten two Fancy Feast cans of Whatever in Gravy, and made a start on a third.

Wednesday? I think so. I'm starting to get a little off-footed on what day it is, which is ... annoying. Outside the office windows, it's sunny and cool. Going to be warmer later, but not, yanno, hot.

Breakfast was leftover dhal. Second cup of tea to hand. I have chicken for lunch, and a veggie to be named later.

Yep, up at 6 again. This morning, I got up when Trooper yelled in my ear, figuring he was going to win, anyway, and not wanting us to start the day at odds. He yelled me all the way down the hall to the kitchen, yelled while I mixed his meds into the gravy, and yelled me back to the bathroom, where he was served.

He's now conked out on the copilot's chair and my nerves are starting to settle. Trooper has a very effective yell.

Since I was up, I threw a load of laundry in,to sort of prove that I was relevant, and now I'm waiting for my brain to catch up with being awake, because I have a bunch of /t/h/i/n/k/i/n/g creative labor I need to do today.

break for Rook to throw himself into my lap, snorgle my cheek and pat my hair. "There you go, Mom, NOW you're ready to face the day. An' if that creative labor gives you any cat sand, you send 'em to ME." Thanks, Rookie.

ANYhow, I'll have a shower after I finish my tea, and try to shock the system into wakefulness. And, yanno, there's always more tea.

I have two phone calls that I really need to make, but I haven't been able to scrape together the OOMph to get them done. I'm hoping to make at least one of them today.

I need a secretary, or maybe I mean a keeper.

On that topic, sort of, when I was down in Bath a few weeks ago, I passed one of those, um, retirement communities, and I briefly thought that it might be ... interesting to live in Bath, so I made a note of the place's name and when I got home, I filled out internet form for more information, and, I mean --

snort

I don't want to mock people who are more substantial than I will ever be, but ... let's just say that if I did have an extra five hundred grand laying around to buy a "cottage"? The monthly fees are more than the mortgage payments on this house (which are, yes, low, because Steve insisted we refinance in that bygone day when money was for some reason cheap), but even at the original less cheap rates. And then you have to do the things you do, anyway, like eat, and put gas in the car, and (I think this is not included) pay to keep the lights and the heat turned on.

And, let's face it, I'm not moving out of this house. For one thing, I don't want to move, period. For another, the house is put together to remind us -- and now me -- on any daily walk-through what it is we chose to do with our lives, and how that worked out for us, and there are some days when I really really need that reminder.

Well. My tea is gone, and the laundry needs to be shifted from the washer to the dryer, so I guess it's time to get shakin'.

What's going on with y'all?

Cat census:

DISCLAIMER:  This is not an easy read.  If you don't wish to read about the end-of-life situation of elderly coon cats, and their equally elderly caretaker, please pass on.  I'll look forward to checking in with you again tomorrow.

Background: My first cat was Archie McGee, who came to me as an orange-and-white kitten some time Pre-Steve -- say, the early 1970s. Some years later, when Archie was grown, I met Steve Miller. He had a gray and white cat of Extremely Regal Bearing named Arwen. The combined household eventually acquired a third cat, a brown tabby barn cat named Brandee. Steve and I kept cats together for 47 years. We have nursed sick cats, and assisted failing cats through their last days. And when we were let to know that it was Time, we let them go, with grace and love.

Trooper is 15 years old; 16 in December. He'd been fine until last summer when he began to lose weight. He was still sharp and took an active paw in raising his grandson. He took it ... badly when Sprite left us (as did we all), and that was when he began to decline. He's been steadily losing weight, and getting more and more demanding and more and more forgetful.

The problem here is not that his appetite is not tempted, nor that he is "sick" (all his blood work comes back perfect), but that he forgets food while he's eating it. He will, in fact, no longer eat crunchy food, though he will eat a few hand-fed crunchy treats, and (sometimes) freeze-dried chicken treats. He will not eat chicken baby food, the first cat I've ever had that refused this delicacy. He's ... disinterested in tuna water, and mostly ignores tuna. He will eat Delectables gravy, which is not food, necessarily, but he will lap it up -- until he forgets what he's doing, and then I need to show him the bowl again, push his nose down, and he remembers and finishes. He will eat the so-called "stews," by which I mean, he will lick up the gravy and ignore the inclusions.

This morning, after having smacked me over and over again to get up and feed him, he looked at his bowl, uncomprehendingly. What was this strange thing? I stirred the gravy and offered again -- still no recognition. I took the food up. He started yelling at me to feed him. When I went on making my breakfast, he curled up in his box on the desk. Later, I offered the gravy again. Again -- no idea what this is, Mom. I offered freeze-dried chicken and he ate a chunk. Then he figured out the gravy.

According to the vet, Trooper's problem is dementia. While there are apparently therapies for dogs that somewhat mitigate their symptoms, or at least the attendant anxiety (because Trooper knows there's Something Wrong), there are none for cats. I don't know about CBD, but I feel that his vet would have mentioned it, if she thought it would help. She's not a newbie, either.
I am going on at length with this because while these things have been reported in bits and bobs, as I mention what I do during my day, I have not laid the whole thing out in one place and some folks are coming in late, having not heard the whole story.

I am not asking for advice. I am taking expert advice, and I'm feet on the floor here, in a very fluid situation.

I do thank everyone for your support and concern.

Here's a picture of Trooper this morning: