After a few hours at our wonderful vet’s office, Bailey (our #5 cat) is back home. He hasn’t shown an interest in food yet, but considering all he went through yesterday, that’s not surprising. I imagine it is how we humans feel after a surgery or procedure; uncomfortable, not hungry, cranky and not in the best mood.
A few good signs, though—he is back to sitting on my lap and purring. So far I have tried to tempt him with his regular food; no dice, and, as a final resort, tuna. No dice on that, either. I expect that once he gets the meds and all out of his system he will be back to his spunky self and get his appetite back.
Which makes me think of why I never had children of my own: I just knew that I wasn’t up to the task. Of course a cat is nothing like a child, but you see the similarity. I know how to keep our cats safe and healthy, I’ve learned what they like and don’t like, and I know that each cat has its own personality. When one of them is sick, I sit up with the sick one, try to get them to eat or drink, and get them to the vet when they need it. When all five cats are healthy and happy, I feel balance in my life.
Those of us who adore our animals are often viewed as “crazy cat ladies” and so on. So what; who cares? We love what we love, and we can’t help who/what we love. All we can do is to live and love the best way we can.
Even a cat knows that.