I am unsure if Piggy and Grover are re-enacting the aftermath of the execution of Marie Antoinette, or if Grover disposed of Piggy and has gotten himself a Purdue Oven-Stuffer Roaster.
P.S. And in the previous post, Piggy is the one standing up. He was always such a nosy little chicken :)
My name is Piglet and I'm a little pink pig. Well, really, I'm a cat. A Sphynx. But I look like a little pink pig.
My older brother, Grover, is a Devon Rex. He writes here, too, but don't believe anything he says.
We live in a tree house in New York City with our mom and we thank you for visiting!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Definitely Got Hit With The Ugly Stick
He was always the ugly one. Can you guess which is Piggy? My mom didn't take this picture. It was sent by his breeder when he was a three and a half weeks old.
Hi:
It's Grover. Listen, my mom's having a hard time writing here these days, though she's reading all your blogs and loving it! So I guess it's up to me to fill you in a little bit.
I still love on Piggy (Oh, behave!) but not to the extent I was, because he still smells like potato-mushroom casserole and I'm tried of holding my wee nose. However, I DO still eat by him and sit by him and play with him (A LOT! He's skinny now so I can really kick his butt!). I sometimes still clean him and stuff, too. I love him now. I can't help it. But I don't snuggle him much anymore. What, you think that's mean? Harrumph! Whose side are you on anyway?!
Piggy, though acting like his stinky self most of the time, eats and eats and eats, throws up every few days, cries in the litter box and is down to 10.8 lbs. When his heart goes wonky he gets very quiet and sleeps very deeply. But, mostly, he acts totally normal and crazy and is being his funny and bratty self, as usual. He still waits by the door for Vito to come home and meows loudly when he hears someone go by our apartment door...missing is awful.
He goes to the vet on Saturday. The vet is thinking one of 3 things...that his thyroid, which has always been fine, is now not doing it's job (easily remedied by meds); or, the Prednisolone may have turned him diabetic, in which case we'll have to stop that drug and try another (which he said isn't as good, but worth a try); or, that the IBD has progressed and/or morphed into whatever kind of cancer it morphs into. So, for now, just blood work. Anyway, Piggy can't go under anesthesia because of his wonky, malformed/arrhythmiactic (is that a word?) heart, so it's not like we can do exploratory surgery or anything - hell, they won't even clean his teeth, which is upsetting to us, but less upsetting than him dying from anesthesia, which his Cardiologist said will definitely happen.
So, that's where we are at. We will keep you all posted. We love you!
Love,
Grover
(The one who is never sick and always smells fresh and is getting a bit tired of all the tears around here...)
Saturday, January 2, 2010
I Get By With A Little Help From My Friend
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)