Dayeen, day...een

Forgheen' pelleds.

Tonigh' the Smoothman, who nebber torch a keetchen eemplemen' een his libe, crosh' my pelleds por me, to meex weeth agua.

Whad the forghe? They doan' tastde bad enorf already?  You mos torn them into soup?

Kaka, I cry, y walgh away.

Almose', I feel sorry por heem.

You mos' ead, keedy, he say.

Whadebber, I say.

Lader, the Wooman corm home, y she lie arn the bed neghs to me y she open the bag ob Wheeskas treads (I refuse to tasde healthy beetameen tread) y she taghe worn oud y geeb eed to me. I ead. Arn the bed. Ees lighe Chreestmas. Nebber I yam allow to do thees. She geeb anorder worn. I ead. She geeb me Numero Tres. I ead. Quattro. Que rico. Cinco. Delicioso. Ocho - que sabroso.

I ead twenny.

Treads.

Een bed.

I yam a keeng.

I eegnore the peenk lamb charp. The order nigh' eed was fantasteec, smallpieces. Today eed ees...borreen'. Kaka.

The yoomans. They loogh ad me weeth beeg, roun' eyes. The Wooman cry. She theenk I doan' see.

He only eads treads, they wheesper.

Forgheen' A!!! I say.

Lader, she open por me a smallteen (ees same as smallcan) ob Weruba Lamb Borger. Ees wonnerful. I ead two helpeens'. The yoomans smile.

Morneen', nigh', they rob the new deesgosteen cream een my ears.  Ees my drorg por the Typhoid. To do thees they hab to wear CAT CONDOMS arn their feenger!!!!! (Eef they doan' I weell hab keettens. Or maybe the Wooman weell hab keettens, ees carnfuseen').

Wornce a day the Wooman geeb me smallpeel. She say ees "anti nausea". I say porque? I feel fine!

Madre de Dios, Gatito, she say.

So. The yoomans say today was a good day. Onteel tonigh' I no ead nada dureen' the day. Nobardy know why. Thees weegh I maybe geeb more blord. Las' weegh the ved tech, Neeck, say to the Wooman, We hab lorn' thad Thees Cad [ees me] has a certain breagheen' poin' weeth os.

Meaning I bide their arm arff when they try to geeb me eentrabenous saline. Forghe thad. I weell die lighe a man.

Yos keedeen'.

Y now the Wooman say she need to say sometheen. Teepical.

Hasta luego...

From the Wooman:

Thank you to all Estorbo's friends for all your love and kind comments. It means a great deal to know that you care about this kitty [ees me! Go away Estorbo! Ees my blarg! But this is my message, move. Bod I yam dyeen' - show me respeghd! You're not dying right now, Estorbo, you ate a good dinner! Eeeep].

Sorry about that...where was I?

Ah, yes. I have resurrected the Donate button, in the right sidebar. This is a difficult thing to do. Several of you have asked whether I would, or was going to. Now it is there, if you would like to donate to his medical fund. There is absolutely no expectation from anyone who reads this blog, to contribute to it. Many of you were very kind to do this in December 2011, and those donations paid for almost a year of expert veterinary care. 

So, there it is. We take it day by day [are you feeneesh? Nearly.] Estorbo still visits the terrace, the roof, and sleeps on the bed. He's been harvesting his own, early catnip. And he really did have a good dinner tonight.

Thank you. 

[Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz]