The Bugger-cat is unwell. Listless, not interested in food, seems a bit wobbly on his feet. Since he’s still on chemo this is not a good thing, so the Bugger-cat has been taken to the local vet, who gave him a chunk of blood tests.
Naturally, the kitty oncologist wants to take a look at His Buggerness since he’s exceedingly anemic, and both sets of vets are worried that his treatment has led to gastric ulcers.
Welcome to the House of Kate, where any time things seem to be settling into a more or less sane pattern, the world will upend you and destroy your plans. Or at least, it seems that way.
In any case, I’m taking him to the oncologist, and in the meantime keeping an eye on him since the Husband and I would rather like him to be around for a good long while. He’s only 13 – not that old for a kitteh, even one who managed to earn himself the name Little Bugger.
He earned that name fair and square, as an itteh bitteh kitteh hiding from the Husband and forcing him to search the entire house in order to get his Little Buggerness to his first vet appointment. And by hiding I include artful camouflage so he wasn’t noticeable even with the Husband looking right at him (I was at work that day. The Husband already had the day off).
Obviously as a kid I had it all wrong thinking that adults had it good. Instead of those nice long days of summer break, time just flies and there’s never enough of it, and that’s when things are going well. Nobody tells you you’re going to get slammed with responsibilities and you’re going to put those ahead of anything else because dammit you’re an adult now and that’s what adulting is all about.
Yeah, I’m a tad frustrated. Bugger was doing so well, damn near doubling his body weight over 6 months. I just hope this is a minor setback, not anything worse.