Nose, the 22-year-old cat, had a seizure at the vet as mrguy was checking him in to board. We learned that he has hypertension, needs his subcutaneous fluid intake increased, and that he has anemia. Most of those are also problems mrguy's mom has, so that's a little trippy. Nose has many fans at the clinic, so everybody came running to see him and make sure he was ok as the doctor was treating him. The founder of the practice came by. "Is that Nose? He must be 23 by now!" Pretty close, doc! They think that he will recover.
A few minutes after I got the initial phone call about the cat, my sister-in-law called to say that his bro-liness is in the hospital. Blood clots in the lungs, but he has been treated, is out of the hospital and is supposed to join us tomorrow.
Then the mama's fave caregiver's sister died in New Zealand, so we're figuring out scheduling around that. Poo. So sorry for her. Of course it's remarkable that her sister passed away when the mama was on vacation and didn't need her.
Here we are at Day Four. The mama, the frenchman and D were playing gin rummy. I was in the kitchen making sandwiches for mrguy and I. He was upstairs busying himself with fancy book learning. D, who missed Bear Night last year, looks up from his hand and says "Bear!" Yup, the door to the porch was open and there was an adolescent bear on the porch, lumbering toward the dining room. Really, Dude? The boys closed the door to the porch and siblings shouted for the caretaker, who was away from the house. His friend apparently heard us and called him to let him know there was a bear on the property. The bear went down the hill the same way Brutus did last year, and the caretaker walked around with his rubber bullet-filled rifle.
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