More than a little jet lagged, I'm back in Dublin. And guess what? It's c-o-l-d cold! Max tried to warn me. He said it was cold enough for thermals. I decided he was being wimpy. I was wrong. He was right. Brrr.
The night before I was scheduled to leave, Miru decided he didn't want me to leave, so the he willed the festering wound behind his ear to fill with puss and explode. Apparently, Milhouse (prime suspect) had bit him at some point during the week, and it had become an abscess. The resulting shaved-neck kitty is pretty funny, but also too gross to show on this blog (even though I know you're all dying to see kitty gore). But here we are at the emergency vet.
And here we are running away from oral antibiotics and warm compress the next morning.
I still left on schedule, but I was full of kitty guilt. Fortunately, I was also full of turkey sandwich. A great guilt fighting agent.
My brother and his Kristy are coming tomorrow to celebrate Thanksgiving. I'm really looking forward to showing off my fancy Dublin lifestyle and our cute little European apartment. I think we're even going to rent a car and go find some sheep. Sheep!
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