Oprah, the original cat, showed up last week with one very ugly wound to her head. She usually would not let anybody get within 5 feet of her and NEVER came into the house. This day she was sitting in my kitchen. Her head had bare skin spots with red pokes in them. I assumed she had gotten into a nasty brawl with something. I slid the food bowl closer to her and she ate, meowed at me, then left. What an odd happening?!  I saw her two time more after this little morning conversation we had, but no more after that. My fears are that she wandered off somewhere to die. Blessed old cat, all black and full of spit and vinegar.

She gave us three more kittens. One has an eye that is not opening, one is to thin and they all are sneezing. So with the help of dear Fang, I am off to see the doctor with them. I suspect some sort of upper respiratory infection and a good antibiotic regimen will help. The thin one has me worried because he is acting similar to how Betty did. This little guy decided he was going to be an indoor cat, so he tromped himself in one morning and has been accepted by the crowd. Its odd because I almost feel that this little kitten has been in the house before through one of the other cats that have passed on. I don't know, maybe it is Betty in another life.  But watching him follow Fang around the house is such a delight.