Happy Anniversary!

It's been 2 years that we've been a family.

We've gone from hiding in my closets to lying pretty much anywhere. She was yawning but the caption to this photo could be, "MOM! Enough with the photos! I was trying to sleep!" 

Here is Pilchard making sure I know whose recliner this belongs to.

I've decided to put a throw on the seat. You can see the small clumps of black fur on the throw. Once a month, I put a clean one on and wash the current one. Just the price of being owned by a long-haired black cat. 

In honor of the occasion, I got them some Fancy Feast. I am ever so grateful they don't prefer this for food. I had some difficulty getting the pull top open. That was quite a shock. I used to be able to pop the tops right off those, but this arthritis is causing trouble. 

This morning, I divided the 3 ounces of beef and liver into quarters and put the spoonful on a plate for each. They sniffed them for a bit before digging in. Mija ate about half of hers. Pilchard cleaned up her plate, after knocking some off the plate and onto the floor, and then cleaned up what Mija didn't want. There is half a can left so that will be put out at supper. I think I'll save the chicken feast for Thanksgiving. I really don't want them getting used to this. It's way more expensive than the dry and probably higher in calories. They need to lose weight and I'm pretty sure Fancy Feast won't help that. 

It's hard to believe it's been a whole 2 years. Sometimes, it does feel like they just got here and I find myself missing one of the 5 who has gone over the rainbow bridge. But, when I wake up in the morning to a purring cat tucked right up next to me or when I try to read my newspaper and a black face pokes under the paper and meows for my lap, I am ever so grateful they are here. 

We belong together. 

Beverage:  Edinburgh's Finest tea

Deb

2 for a buck

It's hard to type your blog while you're holding a cat. But I need to cut her some slack. I think today it completely set in that she's alone now, that Rascal really is gone.

I had to go to PetSupplies Plus for cat food. With all of Betsy's problems in keeping on weight, I was feeding her, when I was home, every time she seemed to want it. That she would make a mess on the kitchen floor or only realistically eat half of what I'd put down and the rest would have to be thrown wasn't of consequence. It has been all about beefing her up.

Cats know when one is ill and will step aside to let the sick one have more. Rascal had been doing that for months, letting Betsy eat. But the last two months saw Rascal turning up her nose at most anything I put down. I would follow her in the morning or evening admonishing her to eat, even a little, of what I gave her. (Betsy moved from shoulder to lap for easier typing.) It was akin to getting a 2 year-old to eat peas. I went through so much cat food in the last 6 months, it's pretty ridiculous.

So now, it's just Betsy. Today has seen little appetite although she does go into the kitchen and nibble. She ate the last can, or moved it around on her dish while nibbling. I left to get more food, 62 cans equaling 2 of every flavor I know she eats. When I came home, she was sitting in the hall looking into my bedroom, the direction Rascal was on Wednesday. She let out a rather plaintive mew when she saw me and came trotting into the kitchen.

I think there is grief here. I know, from losing 3 other cats prior to Rascal, that cats have to grieve in their own way. Betsy is very subdued today. She doesn't even follow me around every place I go. I'm trying not to see this as "giving up" or that her kidney disease has gone beyond return. I'm going to keep her in my lap where she's currently dozing and purring and hope that helps with the grief. With her here, I know I won't be getting up because it's too quiet to go find her.

Beverage: Dr. Pepper

Deb

Yes, I think I can do this.

Gasp! Syringes!

Well, they aren't for me, they are for the cats.

Rascal was not well this morning. After agonizing over it all morning, I came home at noon to see how she was. She refused to eat breakfast. I went into the kitchen to make more hot water for tea and she followed me in. She's been meowing pitifully for over a week. I know it's a meow of "Mom, I don't feel well" but there is so little I can really do. I had looked into the ultrasound Dr. Zollinger recommended but I don't have $375.00. Still, her listlessness and complaining tugged at my heart and I decided I should just take her in for a recheck. Maybe there is something they can do which doesn't involve $375.00.

$177.75 later, she's dehydrated but the kidney disease seems to be reversing itself. She's lost more weight and is probably still anemic. The kicker is that the lumps Dr. Z felt in her colon are still there. I knew one of the things that had not been checked was a stool sample and I was going to bring one from home, but the litter box was clear. I opened the door to pick up the cat carrier and there was a distinctive aroma. Rascal had provided a fresh stool sample on the way over. I don't know if I should want them to call me or not. If they call, it's because something's not normal. But perhaps that would be the problem and it would be easily "fixable". On the other hand, if I have to pill this cat...

They gave her fluids and I will get a box of Lactated Ringers from Target. My favorite tech, Val, will help me attach lines to the bag and I'll use the needles shown above to give Rascal fluids. She doesn't get as much as Betsy had been getting so it shouldn't take as long. I can do this. I know I can.

She's sleeping right now. We came home and she ate probably the entire contents of a 3 ounce cat of Fancy Feast. Betsy helped clean up some of what wasn't eaten. Dr. Daly, whom we saw today, said just the fluids alone will help her feel better. She also said the ultrasound is recommended so I breathe a heavy sigh and wonder just where I am going to get the money for it. Betsy needs a full blood panel too to reassess where she is. Dr. Daly invoked the 'c' word for Rascal but said intestinal cancer in cats is, if caught early enough, easy to treat and they can live 5-6 more years after the diagnosis.

Nothing is ever simple or easy. You can't put a price on their companionship, either. Lots to think about.

Beverage: English Breakfast

Deb