I think he’s going to be alright. He’s improved noticeably, he’s drinking water and still eating a good bit, and he’s actually starting to show signs of his usual rowdiness.
I’ve decided not to worry about him. It seems that whatever happened, he must have been in some kind of shock and now seems to be on the mend. Still, this is probably a sign of things to come; he’s not getting any younger and I know I’ll have to say goodbye some day sooner than I’d like. I already dedicated my next book to him a while ago (since he hardly left my side the whole time I was working on it) but I hope he’s alive to see how happy I’ll be when that book is out.
The cat seems to be gaining his strength bit by bit, but still isn’t 100%. Long hours waiting for some kind of answer on his condition are wearing on me. He’s eating, but I haven’t seen him drink since last night. Can’t rule out the possibility that he drank something while I was sleeping but I’m concerned nonetheless.
Mostly, I just want to know what to expect next. He seems like he could recover in a few days or crash at any moment. The wait to see what becomes of him is agonizing.
I’m in no mood to type much about it, except to say that the cat I’ve had since I was 12 is clearly injured (probably a spinal injury after getting his claw stuck in the bed spread and falling off the bed) and in need of intensive nursing.
He’s 17 now. I don’t know how much time we have left. I’ll be devoting the next few days to giving him as much supporting care as I can but the day I’ve feared may be close at hand.
I always felt guilty for leaving him while I was in London, Las Vegas, and Little Rock. I wanted to bring him with me to London and I was so afraid I’d lose him while I was away. I finally got him back in 2010 and the last four years have been mostly trouble free for him.
All prayers, thoughts, good vibes, and votives for his recovery are much appreciated, though at his age I can’t hold it against him if he decides it’s time to cross the divide.
My cat goes nuts whenever he hears a West Country accent.
I noticed a while ago that whenever I watch clips from “Time Team” on YouTube, he starts walking around and yowling. At first I thought it was Tony Robinson’s voice for some reason that he was mistaking for someone else, but then I had a thought: what if it’s Phil Harding’s voice?
Phil Harding, one of the Time Team archaeologists, has a very distinct West Country accent (Wiltshire, apparently).
I played another clip of a Somerset accent, which is another West Country dialect, and my cat went straight to the door of the room, yowling as if he expected someone to come in.
Incidentally, John probably had a Somerset accent in his youth that he later gave up for a standard RP accent if my memories are correct.
On a hunch, I tried petting my cat and speaking to him in the best West Country accent I could manage, addressing him as “puss,” and he calmed down immediately. He’s now curled up next to me perfectly calm.
I was overdue for some weirdness. Not sure what to make of this; I don’t remember having a cat in that life. PKD was a cat person but I can’t imagine John would have been, since he was a bit more rugged. Then again, you never know.
…it seems that my grandfather did not have a white cat (or cat with white paws) in the early 80s that came to a bad ending shortly before I was born after all.