I’m on my four feet and feeling (Oops, that is alliteration.) a lot better. The kind doctor told our human that I am hyperthyroid, which was why I wasn’t eating much and kept getting skinnier and skinnier. (I’d like to add that it probably was why Comrade Ruti asked constantly at night to go out: “Goes Out. Goes Out. Goes Out.” – his human.) She told our human that being hyperthyroid was much better than dying from kidney disease or some other awful thing. I couldn’t agree more.
Twice a day our human holds me on her lap, makes me open my mouth and puts a giant pill in and won’t let me down until I swallow. (It is more like 1/10 of a millimitre. – his human.) I am eating again and don’t look like an orange and white bag of bones.
Of course, even when I wasn’t feeling so great, I continued the work. Three new outdoor comrades have joined us: Black and White, Orange and Sumi, who was named by our beloved Uncle Matt for a cat our human and her children loved a million years ago. They are valiant street workers, constantly reminding those of us who live in the warm FLF compound how fortunate we are. It is only right that our human shares out abundant food with them. That is the feline thing to do.
Today’s mewsing: If one cat is cold and hungry, we are all cold and hungry. Your co-worker in the struggle, Ruti, the Resilient
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