
King is home. When I picked him up, I thought he was over the anesthetic completely--he seemed alert and pulled me out of the office like always.
Nope. He's out of it. Whimpery, like Gaby was. Somewhat disoriented. He did eat. Drank some water. I need to limit him to leash-walking for the next week and a half, which will be fun. I will also need to tie a plastic bag to his foot because the ground is still wet enough to muddy the edge of the bandage.
Gaby is outside, lying on the deck. She was very happy to see King, but he wasn't all that responsive and she was eager to go outside. So, outside she is. I need to limit their interaction for a few days anyway, so it works out.
It hit 52F today--I saw people in shorts and t-shirts, riding bikes. Motorcycles. Kids playing in the parks. Daffodils are poking out of the ground, but I haven't seen any crocuses yet. Could hit 70F on Thursday. But temps are going to drop like a rock--40s and rain or even some wet snow. I am predicting this will happen right about the time the backyard is no longer wet and squishy.
I'm having a beer. I need to go downstairs and empty the dryer, but King is sleeping now and I don't want him to get up and follow me.
I love him. I love Gaby. I wouldn't trade them. But after Gaby's accident and now this...I'd like to give a pair of robotic cats a try for a week or two.