There’s been significant improvement since that last post.
Goodman, for his part, is almost completely recovered from his enteritis, and is wandering around the house shouting for food in the traditional manner. The racket is surprising after a few days of relative quiet.
Meanwhile, Squeak was taken off to the vet on Saturday, and was remarkably well behaved for a cat who was plainly in a lot of pain. They knocked him out and drained the abscess, which apparently had enough fibrotic tissue at the bottom of it to suggest that it had been there for possibly as long as a couple of weeks before it started to get acute. Squeaky now looks extremely peculiar, with a big shaved patch on his side, and all painted up with colloidal silver: but he’s a lot happier with life.
The vet looked at us rather strangely when we immediately removed the celluloid collar that they’d put on him to keep him from pulling the stitches out. But, as I’d thought, Squeak is paying them no attention whatever — he’s much too busy catching up on his sleeping and eating. He quickly got back into his normal operating mode — only spending a little more time than usual, immediately post-op, growling at the other cats and whacking them if they got too close to him — and is now alternating long periods of relaxation with the usual evening beating-of-the-bounds, carefully re-spraying the boundaries of his territory.
What a cat.
So things are getting back to normal, and I can now return to (a) finishing this YW short story and (b) whacking our producers’ website into shape with some needed changes before the tradeshow season begins.
(BTW, the short story has been producing some strange fallout. Suddenly we seem to have a chocolate-oriented shop at CafePress. YW fans will understand what I mean when I say that I blame Carmela for all of this.)