I may call you friends because on the Internet we are all Ginger cats. I am getting along with my hind leg splint rather well. I can jump on and off of the Who Man Beans high bed, get to my cat crunchies and water bowl.
I spend many hours reflecting on my life under the bed covers. This quiet retreat allows me to consider important questions and revise the outline of my novel. I am not depressed. I am keeping body silence so that I may heal. I do nap, from time to time.
My balance is not as good as it was before the fracture. I clawed into the sole of Mr. C's foot last night as he slept when I wanted to get off the bed. He didn't care for this. I dipped my splint foot into the water bowl. These things happen.
Whistle cannot restrain his kitten humor. He calls me "gimpy", "tripod" and "dragster." I forgive him because She gives me more cat cookies than he gets. I'm enjoying her sympathy.
Keep those cards and letters coming. I return to the pawopedic doctor on Monday.
Very Truly Yours,