Oh, by the Way...

Ginger has a PENIS. Sigh. Even if one gets sexing right most of the time, a few little uh-ohs slip through. Damn. He's starting to spray HIS DELIGHTFUL URINE around the kitchen and is also PESTERING SHEILA to distraction. However, the good news is that his "technicals" have yet to descend. I was really wanting Heizen (who is neutered) to be with the two girls, in the house, and now one is a boy, instead. The Blue Moon barn is pert near full. It's like a Chinese puzzle - one has to move this in order to move that. (Anybody need an angora bunny?)

This little guy is way too smart. Takes after his dad, Percival. Last night, Ginger got himself up onto the kitchen table where the bananas are kept. I found half a skin, with tooth-marks, on the table with the innards eaten. He's a little shit. He's also curious and adventuresome. Reminds me of Murgie, whom I still grieve for. I still can't think about it too much.

Quentin is stable, not improving or worsening. His appetite is good, even if his little head is crooked over to the left. I massage his neck several times a day and he's had his second injection of Ivermectin. It's all I can do.

I have been feeling better, what with the air conditioning and all. I don't know why I open the windows every spring when I know it will only make me sick. But, crap, after months of being inside, one wants to smell fresh air, even if it is awash in allergens. If Sweetie didn't remind me of this, along with the other vectors, seasons, pollens, etc. that affect my allergies, I don't know what I would do. My denial is such that every time I have an allergic reaction, I somehow think it's the first time it's ever happened. And also, my short term memory sucks. How I get anything done is a mystery to me. And probably others, come to think of it.

The AC is on and I'm feeling fine. Also, Crazy Aunt Purl has written a book.