Now that all there is here is Aria, I’ve been spending more time with her alone, obviously. Her personality is so different than Jethro’s. She’s not anywhere near as protective as he was, unless you invade our space when we’re walking. A friend came over, and she started barking. I told her to knock it off, and she did. Turned around and laid down on the bed by the window.
She said her piece, I guess.
I miss how the big doofus would trot out and orbit the car when I came home. He even did it when he was sick. She can’t be bothered. She’ll be laying in the sun and barely looks up as I drive in the gate.
She will run up to me once I enter the house though. She’s also sitting at the hallway gate every morning when I come out.
She’s still off and clingy since Jet died. She’ll nose my elbow while I’m working, and lay down next to my chair. She spends more time in her crate than she has in years. It’s always been her safe place.
Really, if fat-cat wasn’t there, I’d let her sleep in the bedroom.
By the way, fat cat has gotten fatter on her prescription kidney care food. She’s struggling to walk, and wheezes when sleeping. That’ll be a fun vet visit in two weeks or so.
I love her to death, but the bond we have isn’t anything like I had with Jethro. For her, it’s time. She’s nearly 18. Old, fat, in bad health. Think is, she’s really not in the way and seems content to lay around all day.
I’m good with that.
Inspected By Pat 