Al was an orange and white, bouncy, bright, furry spirit lost far too soon to a trifecta of FIV, FeLV, and FIP (before there was a cure), and he's the reason we moved from just feeding street cats to taking them into the house or catios. However, that has meant not just extra food bills but those ever-growing vet bills, especially as our furkin age, and our finances have not gone as we expected in younger days.

So here we are with furkin ranging from about 5 to 17 years old. Seven of them (Berlioz, Bianca, Rooter, Roto, Hollygo, Linus, and Reggie) are what we call Al's "legacy" cats, the ones we've taken off the streets here in Evansville. Three we took in when my stepmother entered a nursing home (and since passed). They are Bob, Charli, and Dapper. And the old man of the family is Brulee, who was hit by a car back in Ohio, and relatives who heard the accident asked us to take him in after a cracked hip healed enough.

Ginny and I aren't exactly in our Spring (or even Autumn), but we're doing what we can to keep the cats healthy and keep the house from falling apart faster than we do. There's pretty much always someone in need of a med trip for asthma, arthritis, or whatever new thing crops up. So our need for help is pretty much ongoing unless I happen to find a winning lottery ticket blowing in the wind.

Thanks for reading and any help you can manage.