Whipped

Maggie’s still eating moderately well, yelling at us to get the hell off her seats, and being cuddly. She’s started snorting a tiny bit again though.

All of the cats have been super smoochy over the last couple of weeks. Maggie has started cuddling up with Mum on the couch in the evenings, which is something she used to do when she was well. She still boots Dad off the chair and has him sitting on the floor, but Mum’s become the flavour of the week. Maggie’s even been sleeping under the covers with Mum lately.

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“Cuddling up with Mummy…”

Earlier yesterday, Rosie discovered Maggie’s spot in the sun behind the TV. Poor Mags was banished to in front of the TV in the cold to sulk. She did finally get her way in the end, once Rosie deemed the spot too hot.

I wanted to tidy my bedroom yesterday, because it looked like a bomb had gone off. It got messy while I was studying for exams at the end of last year, and became too overwhelming to deal with. I usually take all of my crap and sort it out on my bed. Maggie and D’arcy didn’t agree with this. I ended up lying down between them because I had nothing else to do. I made sure the heater was on, but the windows were open so that Maggie stayed warm but also had fresh air. I don’t know if this has any substance, but I feel like she might be able to breathe better with fresh air.

At some point this week in between graduation, Maori graduation, a black tie event, photoshoots, and about six stand-up comedy shows, we have to take Maggie back to VSG for her chemo… hmmmmm…

Yeah… we’re not owned by our cats… right?

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