Here's an update…
Since posting last whenever, I had two annoying moles appear on my left and right temples. The one on my left, which you would see were it not for the fact it was removed, was raised while the other was newer and still flat. To be cautious, prudent, scrupulous, surreptitious, and all that, Matt had them removed.
For a couple of weeks I had to wear that damned elizabethan collar, or "cone of shame." And for two weeks more my stitches, which should've come undone and dissolved after several days, finally fell off.
I fear I have become a financial burden to Matt who threatens to sell me to a tennis racket factory which will harvest my organs for string, if I continue to be a "pain in the ass."
But he hasn't done so yet, as you can see from this latest posting.
I turned 13 years old (at least) in March. The shelter in Easton, PA estimated my age at between 3 and 4 years, though every vet I've been to suggested that was a conservative estimate, including the very first one who estimated 4 to 6 years of age. So in March I turned at least 13, though I could've turned 15 and a half. Not bad for someone in my medical situation.
Matt's employer has once again allowed new pets to be brought into their trucks. Yeah, that's great until the change their minds again 3 or 4 years down the road and everyone has to find new homes for their new pets. Matt says I'll be the last pet he has in the truck, as he seems to think my poor health and truck life are related. He might be right as far as it being rather drafty at times. But I know I brought many of my issues with me through poor handling and heridity or herdidity or something.
By the way, those few of you who still follow my saga should know that when I finally scratch the bucket, Matt will post an R.I.P update on the blog. So if you don't hear from me for a while it's NOT bad news. It simply means we're busy, or Matt forgot the password again.