thoughts on spending most of your day at the emergency vet

 

Since our return from the Owens Valley, the Gris has just not been himself. Eating has become an issue. He's been marched to our vet in Alameda twice. The first time yielded "you have a healthy cat, he must have just gotten a bad mouse". The second visit resulted in a panel of blood tests and finding nothing specific but his tonsils seemed swollen. I have haunted the aisles of cat food and treats in various locations searching for cat food with gravy, cat food without gravy, treats to control fur balls, treats with catnip, and a jar of baby food from Safeway. I've tried putting hot water in the food and cooing over it's wonderfulness. He's been given antibiotics, fluids, and anti-nausea medication. But he's continued to get thinner and thinner. Last night I muttered around the kitchen saying this is it, he's my last pet. But he continued to purr. So this morning after no food, treats, or water had been taken on, and since it is a three day weekend we found our way driving into Berkeley to the emergency vet clinic. Where I must say we found ourselves in a very busy, very professional, very friendly, waiting room, joining a multitude of other very concerned, pet oriented folks with their dogs and cats with an assortment of ailments and problems. At least we knew we were not the only insane people spending our day and dollars on our furry friends. The upshot of a battery of ultrasound, x-rays, and more blood tests is a mass in his intestine. And our next step in unclear. But on returning home he hopped out of his cat carrier and ran over to his food dish and ate turkey feast, classic. And he came upstairs and laid next to me on his favorite red blanket and purred even louder. He won't be my last pet, I'm sure, the house is just too quiet without some purring, but let's hope we can get him back to his fighting weight.