After the loss of our beloved 21-year-old cat Pumpkin at the start of this year, we were pretty heartbroken, and sure that we wouldn't love again for a good long time. Sometimes life has other plans, however; a pregnant feral cat was taken in by a co-worker, and soon some kittens needed homes. That's how Willow and Giles came into our lives (there might be a naming theme evident there) and they are absolutely adorable.
They are the best of friends, either snuggling with each other or play-fighting like crazy:
Okay, but why am I telling you this on a diabetes-related blog? Because sometimes kittens and diabetes don't mix. My original alternate title for this entire blog was "Cat Got Your Insulin Pump?" Cats, because they are weird, love the smell of insulin, and cats, especially kittens, love to play with anything that dangles. So, one day after dealing with frantically wrestling beasties, I started to feel unwell. My blood sugar reading seemed unreasonably high. I couldn't figure out the culprit, until I carefully examined my pump tubing.
It was covered in tiny, kitten-sized bite marks.
Cat got my insulin pump, indeed.
As a bonus image, here's me being interviewed about Toronto and multiculturalism on TV! It was a lot of fun. I'm excited about Princeton Reunions this weekend, so I'm wearing my school sweatshirt.