Hobkin was very sick after dinner last night, the poor little guy. I’m wondering if it’s something in his dinner meals that’s setting him off. I just wish he could talk to us!
It’s so odd. He’s violently ill, and then a second later he’s hungry. And he gives every indication of being fine right afterwards. More than fine. He proceeded to go careening through the house, and insisted upon having a prolonged session of “wrestle mommy’s arm” with me. Maybe his post-sick enhanced energy levels are endorphins kicking in?
One thing I greatly appreciate about our little fuzzbump is that he does his very best to be good when he’s not feeling well. He was flopped on the couch next to me when he suddenly realized he needed to be sick. With haste that would make an over-boozed frat boy proud, he scampered to his area and sicked up on the towel we’ve got down in front of his litter pan for just that purpose. He’s such a good boy. Dammit, I wish I knew what was making him ill!
16-day signed form from Alchemy.
108-day unsigned form from the new regime at Asimov’s.