The Bugger-cat had an oncology appointment on Tuesday, and he’s gained a whole pound since the last one. This is very good news: he’s gone from six pounds to seven – he’s still very underweight since his height and length are about the same as Her Royal Highness Princess Buttercup who weighs in at 16 lb (and is rather more substantial than she should be but there’s no way we’re up for putting one cat on a diet while trying to get the other one to eat more).
He’s also regaining his usual personality, which is mostly a good thing, and he’s almost back to the point where there’s enough padding over his hips that the fur isn’t sticking up. He’s even oopsing less often, and mostly using the litter box. It’s been several days since the last time he did anything that wasn’t at least in the vicinity of the box.
He’s not all that good at figuring out that just because all four paws are in the box what comes out of his butt isn’t necessarily going to land in there too, but at least we don’t have to go poopie patrol every day to find out what he’s hit this time. Let us all give thanks and all that.
I could live without the $450 price tag for a month of chemo, but I’d rather that than lose the Bugger-cat. He’s too sweet a boy to lose. Having the pair of them come and park themselves on the bed each night might be a little awkward when you have the middle of the night bladder alarm and have to wriggle out from the cats pinning you under the covers, but it’s still nice to have the fuzzy bed-warmers curled up with you – the Bugger-cat likes to park himself near our feet, while Princess Buttercup’s favored sites are the small of my back or between me and the Husband.
So… mostly good news. All things being equal the Bugger-cat will continue to improve and we won’t need to take him to the oncologist quite so often. It’s a small thing, but it’s something to be grateful for.
And now I must away, because it’s nearly 10pm Wednesday night, and I have a deployment tomorrow.