Three years ago my neighbor called: my vet has a lovely bluepoint male looking for a home. His human had died; the daughter's cat was spraying the walls in protest. Daughter took the cat to the vet to have him euthanized as she could not keep him. Buster arrived with a white crocheted
blankie and a hairbrush.
After some consideration (Buster is a dog's name) and with no disrespect to his late human, we christened the cat Louis XIV in light of the fact he was much luckier than his namesake.
Louie was punky over the weekend, but perked up some on Sunday. By Monday morning he was one sick kitty and seriously dehydrated, so I checked him into the vet's and started calling every 4 hours for updates. He's home again, I hear (I am not). No clue what was wrong, but he is doing much better. It's only money, after all, and I will feel much better when I can get him to purr for me again.
speakers on the wall. This started last spring by placing the speakers on 4 x 4 boards and getting electronic testing equipment to ascertain the most correct placement. Shortly after, I had dinner for my friends, and was peppered with concern that there might be structural damage in my living room. There is still much to ponder, so no, the speakers haven't made it to the wall yet. Well, friends, we again had dinner this week to celebrate my Mom's arrival. There was much admiration of the beautiful Douglass fir and the festive decorations. But wait, one friend said, we aren't finished here. There is one more touch needed. 
