I adopted Pilot from the animal shelter more than five years ago. He was huge and terrified of everyone. He warmed to me first and has remained mostly my cat. He'll tolerate B and the Elf and generally runs from everyone else.
Recently he lost a lot of weight. He had a cold and is getting older. We kept an eye on him, but he seemed fine, if more friendly. Hindsight being what it is, this should have been my wake up call. Earlier this week he became extremely lethargic and stopped eating. Then came the exorcist-style vomiting. I took him to the vet the next morning.
He has diabetes. This isn't uncommon in older cats. But the words "far gone" and "might not make it" were used. Frequently. They started him on fluids and insulin but told me they couldn't say that he would recover. It's been three days now. We bring him home at night and love on him, only to drop him back off at the vet in the morning. His blood sugar levels are better. But he isn't improving the way the vet would like. He won't eat on him own and is being "force fed" with a syringe. Today I'm going to be sent home with some insulin and instructions on how to do all of this at home. Monday morning they'll check his blood sugar levels again and then "the talk" will happen.
Pilot is very obviously sick. He's weak and tired a lot. But he doesn't seem to be in pain or suffering - not in the "I give up" way that Maynard was before she died last year. I'm going to fight for this cat. I can't afford the $1000+ specialist, no. But I will baby this cat for as long as he will let me.
This has been my entire week. I haven't read or knit or spun. I've worried. I've roamed the house aimlessly. I've cried. I've washed mountains of laundry.I've gotten lots of hugs from my boys.
Right. I just needed to get this out there. My next post will be less doom and gloom. I'm planning a giveaway incentive to anyone would donates to Extra Life through my personal donation page.