Okay, I'm sure most of us who have had cats or have cats with a disease that will eventually kill them, can relate to the good days and the bad days. Yesterday started off as a bad day and ended up as a good day.
Opie hasn't gotten the doxy in a few days. It's not helping at this point and may well be part of the problem (if you look at the side effects). In his meals, I add a probiotic (Proviable D) and L-Lysine (Duralactin). Well, in his morning and evening meals. Yesterday, I also started feeding him mid-day. And because of the dryness of the air (California, Santa Ana winds) he also got subQ fluids.
I fed him around six last night. He ate all of his meal, then a few hours later, acted like he was hungry, so I cooked a chicken breast in the Instant Pot and took some of it to him on the bed and he ate a few pieces, but wasn't really interested.
When Brian went to bed, I put another one of the allergy pills in a piece of pill pocket (the pills are very small) and gave that to Opie, who was laying on the bed. Brian closed both windows, because we have a concern that maybe the cold night air also affects his breathing.
And, for the first time in weeks, Opie's breathing wasn't noisy. At all. No raspy, rattly sound. It was so quiet, I had to sleep on the sofa, because I found myself listening for Opie instead of slipping into slumber. Later I went back to the bedroom and Opie had crawled under the covers and was next to Brian. I felt okay enough to get back on the bed. Early this morning, Opie came over to me and got under my blankets, his head resting on my arm.
I got up before Brian, Opie was still on the bed. When Brian got up, Opie was under the covers. When he finally came back into the office, I got his breakfast ready and fed him in my bathroom. After 40cc of A/D, he decided he was done, but I decided he was not. He got the last 10cc and I let him out and cleaned up after him (I blend the A/D to pudding consistency and he'll shake his head with food in his mouth - it ends up on the walls and floor).
Around eight, I tried to give him his allergy medicine. He's feeling better. He fought it. Three times he spit it out. I took him to the sofa, sat him down and pushed that pill as far back as I could. I watched him and thought I saw him swallow. He left the house, went into the backyard to lay in the sun.
Forty-five minutes later, I found the pill. On the sofa. In the Pill Pocket. I marched outside, squatted down beside him, held his head with one hand, put the pill in his mouth with the other and raised his head up for swallowing. When I let go, I waited to see the pill come flying out of his mouth. It did not. He finally got it down.
I take this resistance as a good sign.
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