Kitton, deceased
Mar. 2nd, 2022 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
highlyeccentricI took M to the vet on Monday at lunchtime, with the help of colleague H. H also has a cat, and also intends to patronise this vet after our previous vet closed, so it was not a TOTAL loss.
Vet was great. I would take my cat to him, if I still had a cat. I was really impressed by the fact that he enquired about what the Fribourg vet (to whom I took M on Saturday, he was rehydrated and sent home w/ expectation he would probably die before I got him back to another vet) said, without seeming... territorial or paranoid. Relieved, if anything, when I said the other vet would have diagnosed FIP even without PCR tests.
M's last... not 24 hours. 18 hours, I guess? were tough. I slept on the couch, which S and I had made up with all-easily-washable bedding. I had M by my head when I went to sleep, but in the middle of the night he walked across me to get up. At some point i got up to check on him, and poor muffin. He'd gone to drink from the fountain, and then peed himself. He'd then gone to lie in the litter (I'd finally realised he'd either forgotten or refused to use his covered litter in the living room, and put the most accessible kitten litter tray back in the bathrrom like when he was wee). I set him on his feet out of it, and he lay back in, so fine.
I left him lying in the litter. I heard him move to "solving the cat puzzle" aka removing obstructions to the shower drain.
I woke up and like... anxiety procrastinated for 40 minutes. Then found him skeletally loafing on the bathmat-towel (I hate what Ikea sell as bath-mats. I have bought a lot of the site of towel intended for women's hairm and use them as bathmats instead).
Due to ... stupidity,I left the master bedroom open for a bit, and he (naturally, being catte) got under the bed. He had been Big Mad for some days that we (I, and catsitter S) had blocked him from under-bed access. But, slightly to my surprise, he got himself out from under there on Monday!
First he tried to seek a sunbeam in front of the window. then, perhaps giving up hope vis a vis sunbeams in the bedroom, he settled in the middle of the CHF 5 ikea duvet, which was at that time presented bare of its cover and hanging around the main bedroom. He snuggled into the middle.
Concluding that a CHF 5 duvet isn't a great loss, I carried him back to the folded-out couch in the living room, eventually. And there H found us.
I miss my mishief boy. It is not currently possible to determine whether my missing:relief ration, vis a vis his daily misfief and mayhem, will or wll not be offset by novel fictional takes.
I still miss him. I am actually relieved, more often than I would have liked, to find myself cat-less. But I miss him all the same.
Vet was great. I would take my cat to him, if I still had a cat. I was really impressed by the fact that he enquired about what the Fribourg vet (to whom I took M on Saturday, he was rehydrated and sent home w/ expectation he would probably die before I got him back to another vet) said, without seeming... territorial or paranoid. Relieved, if anything, when I said the other vet would have diagnosed FIP even without PCR tests.
M's last... not 24 hours. 18 hours, I guess? were tough. I slept on the couch, which S and I had made up with all-easily-washable bedding. I had M by my head when I went to sleep, but in the middle of the night he walked across me to get up. At some point i got up to check on him, and poor muffin. He'd gone to drink from the fountain, and then peed himself. He'd then gone to lie in the litter (I'd finally realised he'd either forgotten or refused to use his covered litter in the living room, and put the most accessible kitten litter tray back in the bathrrom like when he was wee). I set him on his feet out of it, and he lay back in, so fine.
I left him lying in the litter. I heard him move to "solving the cat puzzle" aka removing obstructions to the shower drain.
I woke up and like... anxiety procrastinated for 40 minutes. Then found him skeletally loafing on the bathmat-towel (I hate what Ikea sell as bath-mats. I have bought a lot of the site of towel intended for women's hairm and use them as bathmats instead).
Due to ... stupidity,I left the master bedroom open for a bit, and he (naturally, being catte) got under the bed. He had been Big Mad for some days that we (I, and catsitter S) had blocked him from under-bed access. But, slightly to my surprise, he got himself out from under there on Monday!
First he tried to seek a sunbeam in front of the window. then, perhaps giving up hope vis a vis sunbeams in the bedroom, he settled in the middle of the CHF 5 ikea duvet, which was at that time presented bare of its cover and hanging around the main bedroom. He snuggled into the middle.
Concluding that a CHF 5 duvet isn't a great loss, I carried him back to the folded-out couch in the living room, eventually. And there H found us.
I miss my mishief boy. It is not currently possible to determine whether my missing:relief ration, vis a vis his daily misfief and mayhem, will or wll not be offset by novel fictional takes.
I still miss him. I am actually relieved, more often than I would have liked, to find myself cat-less. But I miss him all the same.