Smudge and Nelson weren't particularly thrilled by my visit to the dollar store this afternoon. They didn't really want to look like festive court jesters. I was trying to get them not looking right at the flash, but no luck with that.
I've had this niggling thought lately that maybe things aren't quite right with Smudge, so I'm going to take her for a check up next week. We know she's getting old, she's about 16 or 17. The thought that is now eating away at me is the congestive heart failure that took one of our previous cats. She showed up one day with massive amounts of fluid in her abdomen. She was a barn cat, so we didn't always see her on a regular basis. Smudge isn't presenting like that cat did, but I've got the thought stuck in my head. Hopefully I'm wrong. There's just something about the way she sprawls out on the floor in front of the gas fireplace that's got me wondering.