My large blue trashcan lies on its side with a black tail slowly sweeping back and forth. Satchmo regularly trolls this trashcan. Momo chews and plastic ranks as a favorite. Right up there also: anything with stick'um on it, like envelopes or prescription labels. Perhaps a vitamin or mineral deficiency? Some cats suck material, so I guess chewing on plastic is not so bad, though ingesting it causes another set of problems.
Then there is the small dish I keep on my recycled footlocker/coffee table. In a former life, this container was an ashtray. Now it holds distilled water. The boys, particularly Momo, like this arrangement. Relatively fresh water all the time. I keep a jug of water by the footlocker.
Somewhere in the room, a cricket sends out his mating call, hoping Ms. Cricket finds his tune irresistible. I am afraid Ms. Cricket lies in the dumpster down the way. Maybe he realizes this because he no longer sings of love.
My tailbone makes life tough right now. Standing or walking poses no problem. Sitting or getting up hurts like heck. Tylenol dulls the pain but does not kill it. I can live with dull, but I need to watch the amount of Tylenol I take because of the interaction with Tracleer. I do not need a liver upset as well.
My health is much like fighting brush fires. You smother one smoldering spot and a second sizzles. We learn to live with the situation because the alternative is not. Our bodies break down no matter what our minds say. PH adds the wheels and pushes the process right along.
Where are you Dude?
Later.
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