Last week I truly thought, was the end of my kitty; but, then they got her to eat, which is a big deal, and she was released from the vet on Friday.

It is very difficult being in charge of a little thing who looks to you and depends on you. She would eat at the vet but I had the hardest time getting her to eat here; it was heartbreaking. She was running away and hiding, which is animal language for “leave me alone, I don’t feel well.” And how can one not feel well in dealing with this, in seeing an animal was not eating enough to sustain her?

My knees and back were shot from crawling into tight spaces where she would go, to get away, but I had food and I had to give it to her. It was an uncomfortable mess for both parties. So unusual for a pet NOT to go to the usual feeding spot-an indication of illness.

She stays in one place for long periods and would avoid the food and likely didn’t even sense it was put out for her.

But, at the vet, she was contained in her cage and would eat voraciously once the food was delivered to her and with a little coaxing, the tasting and smell would kick in.

I put her in her carrier.
I put the carrier on the counter, which is comfortably high for me to be at eye level, have her corralled in front of me, offer the food on a spoon (meds mixed in, thyroid transdermal already given), and with a little luck she would eat. And she did, and eventually ate FROM the dish itself.

She occasionally lets out a shriek-I believe the area in the mouth and throat are causing pain; it’s like a knife in my heart. I took her out (she wanted to JUMP), put her down, she had some water, said HI to Hermès and has been taking a nap since.

I did the same. It just kind of hit me. I didn’t have to worry for the time being.

And now to contend with a microwave oven which just expired. It obviously doesn’t have 9 lives.

There are no coincidences.