Linus doesn’t seem to mind twice-daily insulin shots one bit. Yesterday he went in for a quick blood-glucose test. Normal range is something like 70-150, and his glucose was 111. Success so far! (As of a few days ago, he was at 560.) He goes back in one week for a “curve test,” involving hourly glucose tests throughout the day to see how his levels change. All of this is meant to make sure we have him on the right dose to get things in balance. He’s not a huge fan of the new Diabetic Management cat food, but he’s eating it. Meanwhile, his aggression continues to disrupt the peace in No. 6. Yesterday I pulled him off of Mia and plunked him directly in the shower for a one-minute spraying. He was SO SAD. It sucked for everyone. I’m not sure if I’m up for regular punishments like that, but it was an opportunity to directly associate the fighting with something oh-so-BAD.

Mia, meanwhile, no longer leaves our bedroom. She cries for food in the spot where Steve put it once (and now must put it every night). And last night, she left nuggets and pee in our bathroom. I can’t complain, because (1) she hadn’t gone in days, I’m pretty sure, (2) she used the bathroom—I mean, if you’re gonna go … and (3) I wouldn’t want to use the litter-box, either, if a vicious he-monster cat cornered me in there every time and tried to fucking kill me. But I think we will add a litter-box in our bathroom now, bringing the house litter-box count to seven. Anyone want to come over? Yeah, I didn’t think so. But Stevel scoops the litter every morning and removes the treasures to the Dumpster in the alley, so it’s not so bad, I hope.

The Little Cat wants so much to play with Linus. It sort of works out. They don’t fight-fight, but I don’t think Linus is necessarily in it for the play, either. He’s annoyed, I believe, but is patient with the Little Cat. I guess he gets all of his aggression out on Mia.