CANDY

I don't cook except for making candy. I make the old-fashioned kind. Like fudge:

And divinity:

And pralines:

And my favorite that my mother used to make when I was a kid, peanut butter candy:

Tomorrow I get to cut them and parcel them out. It's hard to know who eats candy and who doesn't nowadays but I've never had anyone refuse it. My petsitter gets a package and also the vet's office for their loving care of my sweet cats. Then my critique partners and some other friends.

I try to give it all away--yes, I do, I really do!--but somehow there always seem to be a few pieces left over.

Guess they'll take care of those pounds I've struggled to lose.

CAT

Our sweet boy cat is gone.

Our girl cat is not taking his absence well. She joined our family when she was a kitten and has never been without her brother before. She can't understand why he isn't here and keeps going through the house looking for him. Sometimes she yowls for no reason. Her appetite has dwindled.

After a couple of weeks hoping she'd get better, I took her to the vet. He's a new vet--very nice--who bought the practice from our old vet, so he hasn't dealt with our baby before. I explained that she's a temperamental cat. That she's missing her brother and has never liked strangers--she actually bit the old vet who laughingly referred to her as a "*itch"--and that I always took her out of her carrier and held her during examinations.

Making me out a liar, she behaved beautifully. When we had to leave her for a couple of hours while he ran a blood test, I was afraid she'd act up, but we reluctantly went off.

When we came back to get her, the vet said she'd been fine. He'd given her a shot and she hadn't tried to scratch or bite or anything. She'd been a perfect lady.

I don't know if he's lying, but he didn't look upset and he had no visible wounds. If he's telling the truth, this is probably the first time in her life she hasn't threatened a vet. Maybe she's taken a fancy to him?

CATS vs THE VET

So the cats were looking puny. The boy-cat had been treated for a urinary infection a few weeks back, but I suspected the girl-cat was having the same problem and made her an appointment. Then, I noticed the boy-cat wasn't using his litter box as he should so I called the nice lady at the clinic who said, "Bring him in, too."

We loaded them both up in one carrier and went to the vet's office. Once inside the examining room, my boy-cat, who is always a gentleman, came out with a feeble meow of protest and a reproachful look at me, got looked at, gave his sample, and yes, his infection wasn't completely cured.

Then the vet reached into the crate for the girl-cat.

Such hissing and screaming and unsheathing of claws I've never seen!

Evidently, the vet had. He hopped way back and said, "Oops. She's a little anxious." Then he looked at me. "Maybe you'd better try to get her out."

So I soothed her, reached in and got her. But she was still unhappy at her predicament, hissing and threatening, making the poor vet very cautious in catching her by her scruff and holding down her back end. Once he got his sample, he put her in the crate with the boy-cat and jumped back while my guy slammed the door.

He wiped his forehead and looked at the crate. "You know, he's got to be thinking, 'What! You've made the bitch mad and now you're putting her back in here with me?' I bet she takes it out on him, and he didn't do a thing."

And she did, hissing at the poor boy-cat all the way home like it was his fault, not even giving him a chance to protest he hadn't liked being handled either. Once out of the crate, he hid for the rest of the day while she stalked around and muttered to herself.

I hate taking them to the vet. I don't think the vet likes it either.