Hazel, as you may remember, has escaped death for the past 33 days because of a feeding tube sewn into her neck, through which we are required to feed her disgusting cat food and medications. The vet expects her to make a recovery, provided she begins to eat on her own, at which time we will phase out the feedings through the tube.

A few nights ago, Hazel ate some popcorn off the office floor. The next night, she ate five tiny pieces of dry kitten cat food. She still won’t drink from the water dish, but she’s making slow progress. She remains dreadfully, alarmingly, thin.

But her lot improved dramatically when I cleaned off a chair in our office, and spread a towel on the seat. She immediately left the cat carrier/bed and jumped up in the chair, and sprawled out, cat-style, to sleep.

The other night, I opened the office door to slip out, intending to shut the door quickly behind me to prevent Flower (the kitten) from getting in. Hazel rushed for the door and ran out into the hall. Prison Break!! She walked gingerly up the hall and into the kitchen, her back twitching, her walk a little unsteady. It had been four weeks since she’d been out of that room.

Flower rushed up and put her in a headlock and she slapped his head with her paw and went to the floor with a thud. We put Flower in the bathroom with the door shut, where he wailed plaintively while Hazel sniffed around, sat in the kitchen, then went into the living room and jumped up on the sofa.

We’ve let her out into the house every evening since then, Flower locked away for safety. It’s starting to feel like there’s a light at the end of this miserable, stanky, cat-litter strewn tunnel.