He's gotten fightier (you know what I mean) when I give him his meds. So, that's good. His breathing doesn't sound as bad as it had, so that's good.
I can still hear him, though. He sneezed a little last night, the cutest thing in the world.
He has become quite selective in his choice of food.
Just say no to anything fishy. Except maybe human tuna. This is okay with me, because fish really isn't the best choice for kitty cats. (Back when Spot had his surgery, I was lectured on the crappiness of fish for cats.) And no turkey, he kind of eats it, but you can tell it's a chore for him.
We ran out of his favorites, so this morning headed over to Walmart to pick up more for him. Twelve cans of each. Fancy Feast. All classic flavors, all pate (the cats lick the gravy off of the chunk style, grilled, flaked or whatever they happen to call it and leave the rest). We bought him beef, chicken and liverr and chicken. And we got a dozen each of Gerber chicken baby food and beef baby food.
So, Pete's set for a while with food.
He gets to eat on the counter (which he can no longer reach by himself). Without other cats interfering (which is a lot of fun for me; I have to keep watch, but the other cats are finally starting to understand that get down means don't get up there in the first place. When we got back this morning I opened up a can of beef and he was all over it. He ate at least half of the can (he's a small cat, doesn't eat a lot like he used to). I know they say to heat the food up, but it seems like it's easier for him to eat when it's cold. More chunky and he can bite at it. And I fluff it up for him with a fork as he eats, so it's not all mashed down in the bowl.
I wish it would warm up so that he could go outside and sleep in the sun. He loves the sun.