Dear Supporters of Bacon,

Even though I’m the official correspondent for Bacon, there are days when I can’t even keep up! For example, Bacon is in his usual place, but it’s not Karina’s office anymore. Because of the expansion—and oh my, how lovely the new addition looks, Karina is now officially lodged in a different office. AND Bacon has another new roomie. Imagine my surprise when I walk through the door and don’t see Melee. Oh, she’s okay—she just relocated. First, she was moved to the Sanctuary Associate Office where she did so well that she was moved again to Suite E. Instead, Lornadoone, ensconced in her abode, is staring at me.

Cute name, I think. And she is incredibly cute. But very feisty. In fact, there’s a warning label on the door leading to the office—the kind that says enter at your own risk. Recommending that only the staff clean out her house. Whoa. So where is this sweetie from? She was moved from Suite B where she was having a bit of a hard time integrating with the plethora of cats living there, so moving in with Bacon where there is little intermingling seemed a good solution.

I tiptoe in to visit Bacon, and she watches my every move. Her house/cage is open, so I lower it, more to protect myself, not knowing what to expect. She doesn’t meow.

Bacon is calm and waiting.  As soon as I unzip his house, he bounces right out and begins his usual circuit around the room until he comes to Lornadoone. He presses his nose right up to her cage and she presses her nose right up to his nose. For a few seconds, all is right with the world. He sniffs her and she sniffs him. Phew. So far, so good.

But then, I hear a growl. Not from Bacon. He pulls back as Lornadoone inserts her cute little paw through the cage and tries to make contact with Bacon. Not in a good way.

Bacon makes a few more circuits around the room but makes sure not to get too close to where Lornadoone lies in wait.

Who can blame him?

The interesting thing, though, is that he doesn’t seem too put out by her.

 “She’s just a little freaked out, I think,” I say to him as he crawls over my leg. “I figured as much,” he meows back to me. “Give her some time.”  “She’ll get used to me.”

“Exactly. Just as you got used to me,” I remind him as I give him some more pets. He heads back into his house and peacefully settles down.

 Which is astonishing in itself. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to touch Bacon, and now we’re like two old friends discussing a little problem. A little time and a little patience.

“How have you been feeling otherwise?” I ask him. He shrugs and I pretend not to pry any further, but I know that he had a big seizure this month that lasted longer and was more intense than usual. I heard that the vet team will be sedating him to check his phenobarbital levels to make sure the correct amounts are in his bloodstream to control his seizures.

On the good side, he’s been better about eating his wet food with his required meds because he now has access to his dry kibble throughout the day. In my house, we call dry food “snacks” because it’s so much tastier than wet.

Bacon and I want to thank you, as always, for your continued generosity to Tabby’s Place and specifically to Bacon. If you haven’t been able to visit this wonderful place lately, you’ll be amazed by all the changes. Be sure to take a stroll through Quinn’s Corner.

Have a lovely spring, and we’ll see you next month with another update.

Your correspondent,
Kate