I know I promised an excerpt from my current WIP, but ...

Good morning from the bloody cold Goldfields of Western Australia.

I promised you all an excerpt from my current work in progress on Sunday (my Sunday), but something scary happened, so it didn't get posted.

Mr. D and I have 2 cats. A Ragdoll (who is demanding AF and thinks he's so superior he runs the household) about 7 years old, and a black, short-haired moggie who is about 18 years old. The picture is him.

While watching an episode of an Australian series Mr. D and I had been watching, our 18 year old cat (who was sitting with Mr. D at the time) began having some sort of seizure. He fell onto the floor and started to thrash around. Mr. D and I both jumped off our recliners onto the floor. My heart was in my throat.

He thrashed around for what felt like hours, but was more like 5-6 minutes. That's a long time. I'm not ashamed to say I was crying while Mr. D told me to keep it together as we tried to help him through whatever he was experiencing. Due to his age, I really thought he was dying.

Once he stopped thrashing around, it took hours for him to eat or drink anything, and we thought he was paralyzed down one side because he was having difficulty walking - dragging one back leg when he tried. He didn't purr until later that night and I haven't slept much since so I can keep an eye on him.

Living rural, in a small town, there are no vets. The nearest is 120km round trip, but not on a Sunday. He didn't eat anything he shouldn't have, and he wasn't bitten by anything (like a snake - yes we've had a couple of those in our front and back yard) because he doesn't go outside much any more. He hadn't been outside for days because it's been cold and raining so much.

There will be some who may say "It's only a cat", but he's not JUST a cat. He's a member of our family. He has a personality. It's like he's one of our kids. And that's exactly how we felt, like something was happening to one of the kids. He's back to his normal self. Jumping up on a lap for a cuddle, or on the bed to sleep in between Mr. D and I, and occasionally asking for milk when the fridge gets opened (yes I know they aren't supposed to drink human milk, but he only gets a little just to have a taste - at his age, he should have what he likes - he even had some of Mr. D's t-bone steak last night).

The attached photo was taken a few hours after the incident. The only residual effect is he doesn't seem to have any body heat. You know, like when he's laid somewhere for a while, then gets up, the vacated spot should be warm, but it's not. He's always liked the fire during winter, and that hasn't changed as you can see. I know, due to his age, that the inevitable will eventually happen. I'm just glad it didn't happen on Sunday. I was certainly not prepared for that and have never seen anything like what he went through.

I have a dental appointment to attend (again, in the next town - 140km round trip) today, but I will try to post that excerpt I mentioned. Anyone hate going to the dentist as much as I do? Due to a few bad experiences (are there really any good experiences?) when I was younger, I'm a nervous patient - I break out in a cold sweat with trembling, sweaty palms, the works. Every day I've had to resist the urge to call and cancel the appointment, and forced myself to say yes when they phoned yesterday to make sure I was coming today.

I hope everyone else enjoys their day (or night).