It’s become a daily event now, another that I reluctantly accept, only because the cats do so like it.
Grant was brought up on a farm where all creatures were free-roaming and he feels our cats need their freedom, at least for short, monitored periods.
Fortunately, not all of the cats are interested.
The “walkers” are Toby, Dee Dee, Lily, Penny and Sikkim, the cat of many names (Sasha/Muffin)
Initially, Tinkerbell was part of this little gang.
Then one day Grant said to me “don’t let Tinks out!”
He got a black look. “I don’t let any of them out!”
Trouble is, now that it’s been allowed, the little blighters have learned the art of escapism.
They are never allowed out totally alone or for any length of time. Grant keeps track of where they are, although they tend to disperse in different directions and I worry about when the grasses grow tall and the bushes fill in again.
Once in a while, Grant will say “keep and eye on so-and-so” which makes me neurotic as I am not capable of chasing a cat who’s decided to flee into the undergrowth or down the hill.
Then I grumble and make death threats.
For all the good it does!
Fortunately, the only one of “my” cats that wants to go exploring is Lily. She is a very self-confident little cat and when she turns her pleading eyes at me….still, she only goes out with an attendant.
Lily is equally happy terrorizing mice in the basement. She and Dee Dee are expert mousers, which is a good thing, as I am not keen on having mice upstairs.
Not that it doesn’t sometimes occur to one of the girls to bring their prize up for viewing. Which is a bit disturbing when the poor thing is still breathing.
For the most part, I stay out of the basement, which is Grant’s territory. He’s the chief engineer in charge of all those contraptions that supply heat and water etc..
Mostly, I don’t want to know about “down there”.
But I’ve had an item added to my routine.
Remember I mentioned that Grant was building himself a gym?
Well anyway, he did. He knows about all that stuff, the different moves on the various bits of equipment, the weights, what works which muscles…..etc.
He’s been encouraging me to start a routine, to help build up the muscles in my neck, shoulders and legs, to help support my spine.
He thought I could do more than ride an exercise bike.
But I was in no mood for it. Too grumpy, too achy.
Then I had test shots in my neck at my new pain clinic.
It was like having 20 pound weights lifted from each shoulder. Relief! This week I get a third set of shots, a third test. If this works, I can hopefully qualify for having the nerves cauterized. A six month fix.
Fingers crossed on that. I am afraid by mentioning I will hex it, but I’m trying to stay positive.
So I gave in and now I am doing a set of exercises every other day, guided by my instructor, Grant.
No doubt it’s a good idea and it will keep pain management from nagging me about physical therapy.
It’s been a few days now and I’m beginning to remember the sequence, the different weights to use.
It is very frustrating living with a person who has physical problems and being unable to really help, so I understand why Grant is so pleased to have made me his student.
I may even have to make him a cake.
There’s a thought! I don’t cook, if I can possibly help it. I have no interest, partly because I am so lousy at it. But last week, Grant for reasons unknown brought home Brussels sprouts and I cooked them! They weren’t half bad, either.
But seriously, what can you do to to a Brussels sprout?
Oh, Tinkerbell isn’t allowed out anymore because she gets all wound up and she is rather a spit fire at the best of times.