We all know Henry's a little 'defective.' He's got spindly limbs and weird bone spurs. We knew he started off life with a birth defect; he had surgery as a kitten on a hernia. He snuffs and snorts all the time, has black crap that crusts in his eyes and nose, and he often is a little 'under the weather.'
But overall he's healthy and happy, almost every day. He's the most loving cat we've ever had, and he's wide awake most days, moving around the house from perch to perch.
The past week or so he's definitely been a little punk. And then a few days ago we couldn't find him, and when we did, it was clear he was hiding because he was sick. When he hadn't improved by the next afternoon, we decided to take him to the vet. $350 dollars later we don't really know much more, except that he might have pancreatitis, or he might have something far worse, infectious peritonitis (which is fatal). We have until Monday to add another screening to the expensive blood test to find out the former. And in the meantime, we're trying to keep him eating, drinking and using the cat box.
Unfortunately we made things worse by treating his ear mites the other night. Evidently the medicine had a bad reaction on his super-sensitve skin, and he burned the pads of his back feet digging in his ears. So he doesn't much want to walk around, and we have no idea if it's because he's sick or because his feet hurt . . .
Well, we certainly pray he'll be okay. But we've always known he might not be with us forever, because of his original defects. The hardest thing for me will be to know when it's time to stop throwing money at it . . . because there's definitely a limit to that. I guess I'll have to trust myself to do the right thing.
In the meantime, I'm thrilled that at this very moment, he's on the couch next to me under a 'tent,' as opposed to under a chair or the bed. That's progress.