still no poop, but he seems good, he's alert, he wants treats, and he's happily humping his bed. all is well, except no poop. mimi on the elevator, voice gruff from cigs, asked if he was ok, out of fear, not concern for his health i realized, and i said he's more than ok, he's just soggy. i expect a high degree of dysfunctional irrationality in humans, but fear of mister is just loopy. anyway mimi came around and saw how sweet he is. cousin shari says i wouldn't worry about the pooping. i just remembered traveling by winnebago with mom and tony as a shy inward kid, and mom asking all the time, did ya poop? did ya poop yet!? i think she put the fear in me: you poop or you die. fear and constipation and death, pshew! what a grim equation. ha ha that's me, inside out.