Yesterday I was SO worried about Annie I rushed out of the office at 5pm sharp, flew over the mountain, ran into the pet store to grab some as-low-salt-as-I-could-find-in-fishy-pate-style wet food to tempt Annie's appetite (should she be able to eat) . . . and then had to stand for a few moments outside my apartment door to gather the courage to go inside and see if she was still alive or not.
When I usually come home Toby is all over the door ready for dinner and we have a standard greeting process we all do: I say "Hi baby!" (or, since Toby has joined us, "Hi guys!"), Toby jumps off the chair next to the door (th-thump!) at full volume purr and wants a cuddle, Annie jumps off whatever surface she's napping on in the bedroom (THUD!) and comes to stand next to me with her tail wrapped around my calf (this is as cuddly as she gets), and then we all head to the kitchen for dinner. This has always been the routine.
So I'm outside my door, and mentally holding my breath while I turn the key and walk into my dark apartment. "Hi guys!" . . . flip on the light. (thump!) and there's Toby. I put down my bags and pick up Toby for his cuddle, turning toward the dark doorway to the bedroom, still sort of holding my breath while the cat on my shoulder purrs loudly into my ear and I'm counting to myself (one . . . two . . . three . . . she should be here by now . . . )
"Annie?" Toby still purring. No thud, no sound of movement from the bedroom. Oh god . . .
And just as I put Toby down to go investigate, here she comes, still groggy from her nap but ready for dinner. I was so relieved I cried--a first for me.
She'd eaten dry food during the day, ate a full allowable amount of special-kidney-disease-fighting wet food (fortified with a teensy bit of mashed fish because she didn't eat it otherwise), had a quick nap on a heating pad but then decided it was too hot, and generally acted a bit more like herself. I am swamped with relief, gratitude, and hope.
** **
Later I still wasn't able to get her subcu fluids into her, so we went this morning to the vet so they could do it; it'd been 4 days since her last round of fluids and she was a little dehydrated. Her temperature was back up to normal, and she was well enough to get pissed about the injection (which means she'll be well enough this evening I'll feel okay to leave her for another few hours to do laundry). We left with her second dose of anti-biotic for the next 5 days: the war may be lost, but at least today we won the battle.
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