A chap really doesn’t want to be at home at the moment, and we don’t see him much. Whenever I can, I grab him and he gets fed a pill wrapped in chickie! (and the others all get chickie! too, obviously), but he’s nowhere near his full dose of kidney medication.
Our feeling was that the arthritis is getting worse – he seems to be spreading his back toes, perhaps to better take the weight, and I think he’s roaming his turf for his last summer; I know that sounds mawkish, but …
Anyway, out of kidney pills and horse medication, I managed to catch him yesterday and put him in the cat box, then phoned the vet for an appointment. Fortunately they had one in 15 minutes time, and so we bundled him into the car and took him over to Sarah. She confirmed what we thought; he’s getting worse. Which is inevitable, of course – he can’t get *better* from what he has. She agrees with us; we shall endeavour to keep him comfortable as long as we can, but that’s it.
So if a chap wants to roam the Dukeries, who am I to stop him? I’d rather have him home safe, but his desires come first.
Cost: £91.95 yesterday. I daren’t add it up :)