Looks like a shop

We have new shelves for merchandise. They look lovely when sparsely stocked. I took the rest of the items from on top of the condos where Billie was (no surprise that she was adopted on Monday at 10am!) As I dusted the top of those condos I was reminded of the cat who kept escaping from the condo he shared with his sister and retreating to the top of those condos. I cornered him there once and conned him into walking into a cat carrier. What was his name? I tried going back through the database but no names lept out at me. If I go back through this blog it will take hours. I moved all the cat beds there and they look more desirable now as a line of beds rather than a pile of beds.

Dolly and Mo were desexed yesterday. Dolly had one arm outside her collar when I arrived and she had spilt her water and rolled in the puddle so my shirt got wet when I picked her up to put her arm back where it belonged. Mo is her daughter (Why did I assume she was a boy? Was it the name? Could Mo be short for Maureen, Mouse, Monica? and not Moustache?) Mo wears her collar as a tutu. I think it will have to be cut off as she is such a skitty kitty (Mouse is a good name for her). I will take my good, sharp scissors with me on Friday. The scissors at Safe hardly cut paper).

Talking of changing names: Perhaps Sarah should be called Burrito. She wrapped herself tightly in her blanket and only came out at the end of the day. She was happy to be patted through the blankets.

Wilson has been moved to the play place because Harry and Harley were adopted on Saturday. (Well Done Terry). He is not a happy cat. When somebody goes to sit with him, he walks around growling and grumbling. I think he is telling us how unhappy he is to have been abandonned by his people. He loves pats and is very gentle. He even likes children. The bloke who works down the corridor and his daughter who lusts after a cat visited (again) this afternoon. I chucked her in with Wilson and he treated her just the same as the adults. . . . mutter, mutter, grumble, grumble, keep patting me, growl, complain . . . .

Last week Katie and I decided that Lasagne is a dreadful name for a cat and changed this ginger cat's name to Laurie on the assumption that he was a boy from a glimpse at his rear end.

But it turns out that s/he has some GI tract disease that will require 3 pills a day for a month, 2 pills for the next month and a pill a day for the last month. S/he will be with us for a while. Such a relief that s/he is such a nice cat.