Is there a doctor in the house?

This is our sainted vet, second from the right, at our favorite Nagasaki noodle shop. He came back on Wednesday bearing a large bag of needles and syringes and rubber tubing, so I’m all set to go into the heroin business.

Doing the IV isn’t nearly as scary as I thought it would be. And anybody who knows me knows I would rip off my arm and beat myself to death with it if it made Plato feel better. He is responding very well. Just a couple of days ago he felt like a bag of bones, but he ate solid food for the first time in a month this morning and is putting on a bit of weight. After he ate, he came back to bed and purred me back to sleep.

Rochi has started calling me Doctor Mommy.


Any opinions about that? I love to hear from you.

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