our little guest

Mr. Kibble is here. He is in very reduced circumstances, poor fellow. Meaning, his neurological issue is pretty bad, he can't close his mouth and his little tongue is out much of the time. He eats and drinks well, however, and is so happy to let you rub his tummy.

He is in the spare bedroom, in one of the cat beds Diane brought over and a radio near by, playing jazz. (of course) We keep the door shut to prevent the other two from bothering him - since he can't see, it wouldn't be fair if they were to come up and clip him or whatever and he not being able to see it coming.  He drools, and is incontinent sometimes. He is happy, rubbing against you when you pet his head. I tell him he is beautiful and that we always loved him.

We spent much of Monday clearing out that room; my brother built a platform under a window there with a ramp going down to the bed. This really won't work because he might fall off the bed, or tumble down the ramp. Probably. Except that he doesn't seem to move from his bed all through the night, or today when we were at work. He can get up, but he doesn't seem to. So, this morning before we set out for work, my brother put his bed up on the platform so he could smell the air and feel the breeze and hear the birds. He did enjoy this. We'd check on him frequently.

Diane had, I think, a brilliant idea to get him to drink water. She puts a handful of his dry food (which he won't eat) into the water bowl, and he can smell it and will drink willingly. The food gets wasted, but it flavors the water at least.