She was not precisely a stray when she came to live here, but she was an orfling, adopted from the Humane Society. During the month of October, so she had to have a responsible adult present for the proceedings. We discovered, upon making our choice that apparently people will want to take black cats out and mistreat them in unknowable ways for perverse amusement around Halloween. But not at this house.
She came as a kitten, doing all the hilarious things they do, easily entertaining herself and onlookers. That was about fifteen years ago, so naturally she is slowing down. Though she has recently been spotted up on the shelf, napping in one of the boxes. You walk out there in the carport, and a head pops up out of the box, hoping it is someone willing coming to open a packet of fishy, smelly, gooey, delicious wet food. They have been climbing the ladder for years, to sleep in the boxes up on the shelf along the wall, at least head high, and safe for cats, protected from predators, who are hopefully too stupid to scale the step ladder.
She has always been pretty mild-mannered and good natured. When there were three cats here, she was number two in the pecking order. But now that number one is gone, she accidentally finds herself the queen. Not often assertive, but willing to stand her ground for a bowl of that foul smelling fishy stuff. Or the little splash of milk she has trained us to pour into the lid of a peanut butter jar when she comes barreling in the house at the first opportunity. You crack open the back door and a black flash comes whizzing through, taking up her position by the 'fridge, waiting for the well-trained humans to use their opposable thumbs to get out the milk jug.
Yeah - I know, you're right. Adult cats should not be drinking milk. It's not good for them, hard to digest. But she has us very well trained. What can I say? When you have very little in the way of demands, and it takes something so simple to make you happy - why not? Like that one cup of 'not coffee' I have every morning. Not really coffee because it is de-caf, and not really coffee because it is instant, and definitely not real coffee because it is at least half almond milk, with a big splash of flavored creamer. What some refer to as coffee-flavored milk. Over-alll, a pretty harmless habit, don't you think?
She spent most of the day at the vet yesterday. Under duress I am sure, as the only reason for getting in the car is when something really bad happens: you go some place strange, loud, with lots of foreign smells, and get poked, prodded, and pierced. I was concerned about the fact that she is not grooming, has lots of matted up places in her long hair, obviously loosing weight, struggling to breathe. The vet said she has heart failure, not uncommon as a side effect of thyroid problem. Which was the diagnosis when she went months ago.
There are things they can do to help, to make her comfortable, to ease he physical symptoms. They kept her all day, in some sort of oxygen treatment, to try to help with breathing difficulty, and poked her several times with a syringe to withdraw fluids - I guess around her heart? to relive symptoms.
I went to get her at five o'clock. The vet said she wanted to keep her overnight, but I knew Lucy really wanted to come home. Don't you know: whatever the problem is, you will always, always, always feel better, when you get home into your own little nest? So I brought her home, with three different medications she is supposed to get, two of them twice a day. You know how much cats don't like to take medicine? Yes. You are absolutely right, and Lucy is no exception. But I know she feels better - more active, eating and drinking better, demanding her dish of milk, starting to clean herself.
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