That went well!

All the tricks I learned to make giving fluids a stress-free event worked like a charm for Buddy and he sat still the whole time, eating his catnip (the only thing he has voluntarily eaten). He even stayed on the towel when we were done.

I feel a little better. Getting some fluids in him is a good thing regardless of the final prognosis.

I had to feed Finney catnip the entire time to keep him away from me and Buddy while this was going on. So now Finney is bouncing off the walls, going after every last speck of catnip. He’s insane.

So universe? I could use a miracle now.

What can I say?

I am going out of my mind with worry and despair. I was up all night researching, and Buddy didn’t eat or drink and he still has diarrhea even though he hasn’t eaten in now three days. He also threw up while he was in his litterbox last night.

I’m about to give him fluids and a Pepcid and if he doesn’t eat by tonight I’m going to try a heavy duty appetite stimulant called mirtazapine. The biopsy results may not be back until Monday and it’s killing me to not address the problem until then. I asked the vet about starting him on the leukeran now, but he thought that was a bad idea.

Okay, going to give him fluids now. Here is a picture from my day walking in the park. It looks sufficiently gloomy (although I was very happy, even if the sun wasn’t shining).

I know I sound terrible. I am preparing for the worst, but I haven’t given up hope. I am pining my hopes on the leukeran, and if that doesn’t work, then I might give up hope, but for now I am hanging in there for a turn around.


A Different Story

Well, I just had a completely different conversation with the vet. Buddy is not eating and I called to make sure there wasn’t something else I could give him to make him eat and the vet said when he opened him up he found lymph nodes the size of ping pong balls. He didn’t tell me that before. In this conversation he was definitely preparing me for the worst. Like, even if he has lymphoma it might not be treatable.

I bought tuna and butter to try to feed him, but I’m going to leave him alone for the night and try in the morning. He wouldn’t eat babyfood just now, which I had warmed in the microwave, and he just went to hide in the kitchen cabinet. I know what hiding is about. Although I will give him his antibiotic and painkiller a little later.

I used to think of myself as strong but I don’t think so anymore. I know so. This is Buddy when I got him. I didn’t have a camera in those days. I took this with a disposable camera, so it’s not a great shot.


Buddy Comes Home at Noon

The vet didn’t think Buddy was in good enough shape to come home last night. I was upset but it was probably for the best. I got a good night sleep, Finney had me all to himself for a night.

I called this morning and the vet said Buddy looked good but he doesn’t want to move around, except he said that was understandable. My poor little baby. I’m a little afraid I’m going to be freaked when I see him.

For the millionth time, I hate that you can’t explain things to them. I hate that I can’t tell him why we’re doing what we’re doing to him. I’m making him a box-cave by the radiator. It’s a place to hide where it’s warm. Sigh.

Anyway. What else is going on with me? I sent the third draft of my book proposal to my agent. She’s showing it to a fellow agent for feedback. That’s scary, but the fellow agent is smart, and she likes my work so her feedback will be valuable (even if it does me yet more work on my part). God I hope I get to write this book.

It was snowing out this morning. I took this picture right before it stopped.


I dropped Buddy off at the vet at 8am for his biopsy, which means abdominal surgery, a big deal in itself just to find out what’s wrong with him. My poor little guy. They’ll call me this afternoon. If he’s not too drugged out I can take him home at the end of the day.

I had a terrible revelation last night at choir. We’re working on the Brahms Requiem. The last time I sang this was exactly ten years ago, and just before we started working on it my cat Veets died of cancer. Ten years later and the very cat I got when Veets died may now have cancer and here I am singing the Requiem again. I even wrote “Veets Theme” in several places in the score because the music made me think of him.

On my way to rehearsal, I took a bunch of pictures of the kinds of things in the windows of the antique stores along the way. The weird things that people make and buy.