This is Annie, when she weighed three pounds at six months of age. She was small enough to sleep on the edge of the cat condo, as you can see here. Neither position looks comfortable, does it? But three pound cats do what they want to do, right? I am happy to report a small advance in the antibiotic-giving regime, which, I have to say, smells repulsively sweet. I used to clamp 18 pound Cooky-the-Cat between my knees, so that I had two hands free for the head part. Despite the fact that Annie weighs 11 pounds less than he did, this technique works well on her too, just a little less "big" cat to hold on to.
Am reading two small books, Jane Austen's letters and another book which is a commentary written by people who were publishing books around 1900s or so. The current chapter is a commentary on what one woman calls the chumps in Jane Austen's books. It is amusing, and they do have some interesting things to say about what books people in general like & why. I'll report back the exact titles tomorrow, when I have the books in hand again.
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