Besides the heat, my mind just wouldn’t stop.
It’s about DeeJay. He still isn’t eating much. He likes the baby food, but it’s not enough. Because he’s not eating much, his stool isn’t getting any better.
Brian went to bed around ten last night and I stayed up. DeeJay ate a half a jar of turkey baby food. I watched “Harold and Kumar” and went to bed afterwards. DeeJay followed me in. Brian had been having a difficult time going to sleep and we both heard the squirts of a cat with diarrhea. I got up and got the flashlight to check it out. Brian thought it was in the bathroom, but it wasn’t, it was at the foot of the bed. I cleaned it up.
When I got back to bed, DeeJay was in bed and he eventually ended up on my pillow. As I stroked his chin and rubbed his head, he began to lightly purr. And I started going over that hard question. Was it time?
I thought back to the other cats that passed. How had they told me they were ready? Lola and Lucky quit eating. Rusty walked like a drunken sailor and had nasty, nasty ammonia breath. Pepper’s mouth bled constantly. Bobby was just fading away, had no interest in anything.
But DeeJay was on my pillow, purring. DeeJay begs for food in the kitchen. DeeJay sits by the table when you’re eating dinner. He cries for bits of our dinner. DeeJay pees. And up until I gave him the Nutrical, DeeJay’s stools were better than they’d looked in years. In my heart and mind, I don’t think DeeJay is ready. Yes, he’s skinny as a rail. Yes, his back legs are most likely arthritic.
This morning, we didn’t go for a walk. I was too tired, I just didn’t have the energy. I want to sleep and not think. While we were eating our breakfast, Brian in his chair, me on the sofa, I told him that one of these days, when he comes home, to not be surprised if DeeJay wasn’t here. I asked if he wanted to be there when we said goodbye. He said “no”. Then he brought up all of the things that I was thinking during the night when I should have been sleeping. He likes affection. He likes to eat. He’s been okay with his eliminations.
I tried to see if Deej would be interested in some canned cat food. I opened a can of Fancy Feast and let him sniff it. He started lapping at it. I took the can into the kitchen, emptied it into a small Tupperware bowl, added a little bit of digestive enzymes and water. I used the little handheld processor on it. Pureed it. DeeJay had come into the kitchen and I picked him up and took the food and Deej into my bathroom. I set the food on the floor and gently placed DeeJay down close to it. I picked up Mickey and carried him out of the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I left DeeJay in there for over fifteen minutes and was pleasantly surprised to see that he’d eaten at least half of what I’d put down for him. He’s eaten almost all of it at this point.
It’s not running through him like stuff was Saturday and yesterday. His body is working a little better on processing the food. But he doesn’t look like he feels good at all. I’m sure he doesn’t. Hopefully, after he’s gotten a decent amount to eat, he’ll perk up.
One of these times, when he has one of these episodes (and I know this one is my fault), he’s not going to get better. I’m preparing myself for that.