jaunthie | Running Jumping Standing Still

It was a fairly busy weekend in which I did a lot and yet did not get enough done. Plus I have the other foot out of commission (by "design" insofar as this was a scheduled thing, but still annoying), which simultaneously kept me from doing everything I wanted/needed to do, and on which I did too much, so it's quite annoyed with me. Catch-22, indeed.

On the plus side, I am WEARING the pair of socks I finished knitting this weekend. My very first pair I knitted on my very own! Yay me! They are multicolored and randomly stripey-swirly (an artifact of the yarn I chose and my very rudimentary knitting skills) and entirely amateurish, but by gosh they're actual, wearable, recognizable socks. Imperfect but perfectly functional. Woot!

Also on the plus side, J is doing so much better on his medication, he was acting practically like his old self all weekend. Very good appetite, much more active, and very much more like normal. Which is to say that he sensed I was feeling ouchie/crappy, and did exactly what he's done for over sixteen years on the fortunately rare occasions when that's happened. When I forced myself to plunk down on the sofa with my foot elevated (like I'm suppsed to do), he parked himself in a conveniently close location for head scritches and pets - usually the back of the sofa, which is his preferred spot, although a few times he chose the floor instead - and purred his head off to soothe/reassure me. Every so often he would snuffle my hair, just to let me know that he *would* groom me if I needed the extra love and care. Even if I *do* insist on growing my hair way too long on my head (for any respectable cat to groom properly, that is).

Yeah, he's an excellent kitty, my J. And as long as these pills keep working, he'll have lots more good days. Unfortunately I already know (thanks to Jake) that the positive effects won't last, and will probably wear off faster for this kind of lymphoma than it would for other types. But for now he's put some of his weight back on, his coat is soft and glossy again, his eyes are bright, and he's enjoying life pretty well. Which is all I can reasonably hope for, really. I just wish the pills would work forever. I wouldn't mind, even if he does try to eat my fingers every evening when I give him his medication. He LOVES getting his medicine. He even begs for his goo-wrapped pills by standing up on his hind legs, just as he's always done for his regular food (well, until he got sick).

Pill Pockets. I'm telling you, they really do rock.