Dear Temujin, and of course, you too, picky Dude,
I, too, am glad he some turkey. Giz was well-known at the deli counter at Stop and Shop. They always knew when I was buying for Giz instead of me because I wanted it cut thicker so I could shred it. And, then one day, the deli guy said, I didn't know a cat could like pastrami. I just smiled as he actually shredded pastrami for Giz...
Then he threw in a couple of slices for me...
I was an absolute train wreck when Giz was diagnosed because it was such a struggle getting her to eat. I have this unofficial adopted mom named Joanie. I called her one night in a torrent of tears because I had put out 10 saucers, bowls, and whatever of food choices. And Giz wasn't eating any of it. And, I was hysterical.
Joanie, in her infinite wisdom, simply said, Deb, why don't you just print out a menu. You know, so she could just put her paw on her choice.
Perspective is always so interesting, isn't it, Temujin?
I will never regret one single day of dancing with Giz. (Okay, maybe three...) We danced for four years. She taught me to be brave. She taught me the joy of dancing with a sugar cat!
Yes, she was a pain in the ass. She was a nightmare Stephen King could never have even begun to imagine. But, she understood I was helping her feel better. And, then, I felt better.
And, then, she sent me Nikki, who actually eats cat food and is the polar antithesis of Giz. Well, except she bites the crap out of me when I go for her ear... But, she is cute! And, I am again blessed dancing with a sugar cat.
I just wish Nik liked Motown like Giz... It's not as fluid dancing to Sting or Don Henley...
I am with you both, Temujin and Dude. I am with you both.
And, so are my thoughts and prayers.
Love and hugs,
Deb and Nikki -- and, Giz...