One by one the toys come out, sometimes mom plays with them, sometimes no. For some reason she won't throw my pigs' hoof chew. I really wish she would but all she does is jump and yelp when I drop it by on, er...by her feet. I decided enough was enough with mom always putting the toys back in the box (it's a lot of work pulling them out one at a time, y'know!) that I finally found a way stop her:
I put myself in the box!!!
See mom , now you HAVE to play with me!!!!!
On a much sadder note, after watching Willy deteriorate rather quickly over the past week, I left a message with the Vet. I think it's time. He's practically skin and bone, stopped eating (though he will still eat beef jerky, but not even his soft food) and stopped using the litter box. He's been having accidents and "senior" moments. I've been cutting out mats, but as soon as I do, another one surfaces and the hair hasn't grown back. When he walks, he favors one side and stumbles. I'm thinking it will be this week sometime.
But as much as I know I will cry and be upset, he IS 17 1/2 years old (roughly 86 in human years) and I've had him since he was 6 months old. I got him a few months after I moved to Edmonton, Alberta from Victoria, BC. When I moved into my first apartment in Edmonton in November 1993, there was a 9% vacancy rate in the city so they didn't care if you had a horse, so long as the place was occupied and paying rent. I high-tailed it to the SPCA after Christmas to get a pet. Cats were OK then. I've had him with every every move: 7 (!!) addresses, two provinces, heck, I had him before I started my career and now I'm past the halfway mark to retirement! I was 25 when I got him, now I'm into my 40's. He's seen relationships come and go; only one he ever really accepted. Friends and neighbours, 2 dogs, one sofa, a mattress, and at least 4 scratching posts...
But he's a old man now and I think the time has come for SirWillyCat to find a sunbeam under the rainbow and wait.