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      Thursday, February 05, 2015

11:27 AM - 02/05/2015

The topic: And speaking of Richie


His breathing rate is getting a lot better. Comparing him to the other cats, the rates are very close. So, that's a good thing. 

He's looking more relaxed, too.

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10:50 AM - 02/05/2015

The topic: I love my cats, I love my cats, I love my cats


I really do. But sometimes... Sometimes they make me crazy. And this is when my Xanax is wonderful.

Okay, we know that Katie has cancer. When she quits eating is when it will be time to say goodbye. Her chin is getting bigger (although Brian said last night it looked smaller to him; no matter, the bone of her jaw isn't going to magically regenerate). This morning, the tumor had split and there was a little blood, but that seems to have resolved for the time being. 

The thing is, because I know her time is limited, I do special things for her. And since she's not a cat who appreciates the normal special things like hugs and kisses and pets and brushing, the only thing left is food. She loves chicken baby food. It's what I use to give her her meloxicam (metacam) every other day. This morning I tried giving her straight A/D, but she didn't love it so much. I added a half of a jar of chicken baby food and a little water and mixed it up into a nice thick gruel. I think she would have loved it. Except.

Except Richie has gotten spoiled over the past couple of weeks. When I noticed his extreme weight loss, I started giving him chicken baby food. Actually, I started this last week before his vet visit this past Monday. Before I knew what was wrong with him. Well, now, when I feed Katie the baby food, Richie is right up there in my face. And Katie does not like being crowded and she'll run off. When I first tried just the A/D with her this morning, Richie was right there. Katie runs off. Richie sniffs the food and looks at me. "This is crap" he tells me with the look on his face. And I say "it f*cking wasn't FOR you, it was for Katie, you asshole. Yeah, I know you've got problems, too, but you're not DYING like Katie is, her needs are MORE special than yours right now". And his facial response was "where's the good stuff?"

So, I take a pill. Things calm down. (It's unbelievable how much this stuff stresses me.) Richie is snoozing on the patio. Katie is standing on the kitchen table, wanting food. I figure I'll try the A/D and add the baby food. Richie, with his Vulcan hearing, hears me open the jar of baby food. NOOOOOOO!!! I think to myself  "stay outside, stay outside, stay outside..." I look out the kitchen window. He's not in the chair. I hear the cat door in the laundry room. And there he is. At my feet. 

Okay, fine. I clean out the baby food jar with my spoon, getting as much of it out as I can. I set the close to empty jar on the floor. Have at it.

I mix up the A/D and baby food and take it over to Katie. She starts lapping.

Success! Richie is busy trying to clean out the jar. And he has help, Potter and Mystie are out there. But they're completely ignorant of Katie on the table with some yummy food, and lots of it. She eats over half of what I've given her and she walks away from what's left. I cover the remainder with plastic wrap for later.

And the other three cats are still in the kitchen, trying to get the little bit left out of the jar.

I'm better now.


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lisaviolet is sixty something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.

In her spare time, she makes pretty things to sell in her store.

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