Okay, here's the first attempt at building Price a wheelchair. I are sometimes all thumbs.
|The original wheelchair design, with many markings and fiddlings. Thank you, Maggie, at the Forks Ace hardware.|
|Um... ta da? That doesn't look right.|
|Up and pushing around (complaining).|
|Oops. Back to the drawing board.|
Well, after some more research and gathering of parts on the beach and at the Lion's Club rummage sale, I may be ready to have a go at it tomorrow. At least Price was willing to move it around when I tried it on him.
We've pretty well accept that, after the heavy gut operation (and gods knows what possible growths may be advancing), that he's finally fading from us. He's sixteen, and had a good life. We're going to keep trying to make his life happy.
We're lucky the weather has finally turned lovely, and we can sit out in the yard with him. He's a basically tough, happy cat, and we'll do what we can for him. He only wants fish now, and I'll either get it off the beach, in cans, or finagle a head and/or backbone from Ric the fish guy.
When I die, I want to come back as one of my cats.