Saturday, June 18, 2022

Almost two years again

 There's a reason I flunked my creative writing class. It required a journal... which I suck at.


Thus far, I've managed NOT to catch Covid 19. I retired at the beginning of April with thrilled me to no fucking end!! I can mange on my retirement check, so no need to get another job. Still hoping to do some yard sale type stuff to get crap out of the house... if I ever manage to actually clean and sort the junk. Hell, I've been retired almost three months and, thanks to the plethora of lounge pants and tshirts, I've only done laundry like twice. And that was mostly cat stuff. 


Speaking of cats. Last year was a bad one. Chiara got to where she refused food or barely nibbled at it. Nothing I tried tempted her. I took her to the vet and they said she looked ok, but maybe starting kidney issues. Meds were started, but after a few weeks, it wasn't helping anything. She got to almost totally refusing food. I had to work so I had my sister take her in for a recheck. They drew blood and such, but said if nothing showed, it was likely FIP. A few days later the call came. My world collapsed. My always healthy duchess was going to die. Above is the last picture I took, other than one at the vet's office. I noticed her trying to groom herself and she was unable to bend around. To me, that meant her belly must hurt. Her size showed there was some fluid and if it was making her uncomfortable, I would not let her suffer. July 1, 2021, a month after her 11th birthday, I let her go. It's still hard. There wasn't enough time for me to adjust to the fact I was going to lose her.


Then came December 2021. Rat's hyperthyroid started not responding well to the methimazole and he went downhill pretty quickly. My big boy, my Rateelae, was about 6 pound or less. He'd fought it as long as he could. This was his last picture. December 21, I put the dreaded carrier on the bed, opened it, and, for the first time in his not quite 11 years, he walked in with no prompting at all. It was time. I wish he'd qualified for the I-131 thyroid treatment. Never thought I'd miss him stomping around the house. Literally. This cat had a massive step to his walk.


Then there's this big kitty. Michael was diagnosed with feline lower urinary tract disease in December 2020. He almost totally blocked and ended up at the vet about a week. $1300. Started the same script food Trysten is on for the same condition. Around April, it happened again. About a week at the vet. $1500. If it happens again, perineal urethrostomy time. When I cam home July 1 WITHOUT Chiara, he stopped, looked at both my hands (empty), and looked at me like, "Where is she?". July I got with the vet surgery/emergency hospital in Columba and had a friend take him since I can't drive down there. It's the same lady I shared Aslan with. An absolute angel! Michael was in the emergency department for less than 24 hours (Sunday afternoon to Monday morning) and the cost was not even funny. That Monday, he was switched to the urinary department, his paperwork was all sent from the regular vet, and he had the surgery that week. While he still has his XY chromosomes, my boy is pretty much a girl. Makes it difficult for his urinary tract to get blocked. I think Chiara's loss set off that last bout. His butt was shaved funky, even up around his tail. He came home with a week, spent two weeks in a cone (the pretty flower I go him above), and has done very well since then. $3000. He's in the running with Gaia for most expensive cat.


New wandering kitty. Now spayed and ear-tipped.


Gaia still as snotty as ever. She's going to have to go in soon to have her teeth looked at. Pretty sure a couple need to come out.


Mister annoying himself, Trysten. He's developed a new habit. Normally, if was wanted to eat and I was sleeping through what he felt was feeding time, he'd dive bomb me and run off. Painful and annoying. When I learned a way to keep him from doing that, he found new methods. I've laid here, with my eye barely cracked open, and watched the fucker pick up and drop an empty cup, nudge over my drink bottle, and push the fan to change direction. When an orange boy wants to eat, mama gets NO peace.

No current pics, but Miska and Pewter are doing ok. Miska has lost weight, but not a lot. Hoping it's nothing serious as she's a nightmare to catch for the vet. Pewter needs to go in to have her hips checked. She's started having trouble jumping. Another nightmare to corral.

Pretty much it for the updates. Just chilling, watching WAY too many murder series documentaries, and enjoying not having to go to work.