Nancy is loving the new house, which I'm really pleased about. We were worried that it would be too shady for her, because Miss Wake-Cat is very much a sun worshipper, but there seems to be enough patches of sunlight to keep her happy and she loves the new windows and stairs.
I did have to make her an appointment with the vet last week, because her skin condition was playing up again. I was at work, but Doc C called me from the car (the Mini has a built in hands free mobile phone set up, which I love and Doc dislikes) to say she'd had a cortisone shot, put on more weight and was notably happier about getting into the cat basket after the appointment than she had been before.
Nancy seems a lot more comfortable now, and her fur feels fine. As ever her life would be perfect, were it not for that bitch Edith. Occasionally I think it would be handy to be able to actually communicate with cats, usually so we can explain that it's atleast three hours until their dinner time, but realistically that would just leave us open to a never ending stream of whining from Nancy about Edith.
Edith on the other hand would just flex her paws and purr "I love you, you fool! Pay attention to me!" so there would be practically no difference.