Paid a visit to Mozart’s fan club at the vet’s today. He’d stopped drinking (to my observation), didn’t want anything to do with any of the yummy homemade cat food-and-tuna-juice soup Mom made, has been resisting even basic combing, swacked Trooper a good one in the head for doing something Trooper does at least fourteen times a day and has always been OK. . .just a general Creeping Grumpiness and Hangcatness.
The vet tells us he’s lost a considerable amount of weight — a couple pounds since February — despite the custom feedings — she dispensed saline, and pain meds, and an anti-nausea shot (in with the drip, because apparently the shot burns and she didn’t want to distress him any more than he was already distressed). There is some irritation in his mouth, not necessarily the ulcers that form in a cat in severe kidney failure. . .but, granting room for local custom and individual, not necessarily not ulceration.
So, the plan is to see if the saline and the various meds produce a happier cat who will eat some dern food. If it seems as if we haven’t managed to get him relief and a little more stability, then we’re going to have to Take Stock. At the moment, he’s in the basement. Sprite’s also in the basement, so I’m hoping he’s let her clean his ears and settled down for a nap.
In other news, the guy next door, with whom we share a property line, saw — as we did — a lot of downed branches and broken trees over the winter. He and one of his crew spent the earlier part of the week chainsawing all the trees. Since the trees he has taken down are on the summer afternoon sun path, I have a feeling it may be a Hot Old Summer here at the Cat Farm.
Steve and I had been planning on going down to Portland tomorrow and taking the free tour of the new ferry, then walking around Old Port to window shop, but. . .the “light sprinkles” specified for Saturday at the beginning of the week have been upgraded to “rain”, and window shopping’s just no fun in the rain. *sigh*. Well. Maybe the weatherbeans will change their minds again on the overnight.
The rest of the day, after supper, will be spent by Your Humble Narrator on the couch, with manuscript, pens and yellow pad to hand, plotting. This process may or may not include a Coon Cat.
Oh! Someone very kindly sent me a $35 Amazon gift card, which is of course burning a hole in my metaphorical pocket. So — what have you read lately that really blew you away?