Meester Fawlty.

Apart from the fact that he is not very interested in eating actual food, Basil is on the mend.  He is getting plenty of nutrients via the oesophageal feeding tube so I'm not too worried about the lack of eating; although if he could manage a bowel motion I'd feel he was really getting back to normal.   But he is still on a morphine patch, which is, as my nurse-friend puts it, very binding.  He is definitely showing signs of feeling more himself, he quite often makes the effort to get himself on the litter tray, he has started to do a little bit of grooming, has managed some weight-bearing on the side with the iliac subluxation (in other words, the side that has the problem we are treating conservatively rather the completely shattered side that required the surgery)  and best of all he is seeking out cuddles.  Indeed, if one of us sits anywhere near him he drags himself over to our laps.  I've taken him out for some sun both days, believing, as I do, in the restorative powers of sunlight and fresh air, and he was very happy about that.  I also put a towel down in front of the lounge-room heater last night and kept him company while he slept contentedly.  He most definitely resisted any attempts to put him back in the suitcase, and really, can you blame him?

In other news, Cherub woke me the other morning with a request to make his breakfast because his stomach was so hungry it was meowing.

My little tap student H, from this post looked at the new posters I have in the tap hall, specifically one that looked like this...

and said in pleased tones to me: Hey! There's your brother!  Because boys of that age are of course brothers.


And Climber had his cricket presentation last night.



He received a bowling award and mention was made of his excellent fielding talents too.