The wagon has turned around.  I repeat, the wagon has turned around.

After a full day of treatments and me doing everything I could think of to get Gordy to eat, we are finally starting to see signs of recovery.  My biggest concern was Gordy’s inappetance.  In dogs, you normally want to pull their food for 24 hours to allow their gut to settle but that’s not so with cats.  And its especially not so if your cat is of the “voluptuous body condition” (radiologist’s words).  Without energy and protein, cats mobilize their fat stores and overload the liver.  What started out as a bad case of pancreatitis can quickly turn into pancreatitis AND fatty liver disease.  And Gordy was going on 36 hours without a single morsel of food.  I was getting a bit frantic.

I sent Steve out on a simple errand to find chicken baby food.  That’s all we needed, simple chicken baby food, perhaps turkey if he was feeling fancy.  He texted me from the store stating there was no plain chicken baby food.  Instead, it was a ridiculous array of pureed chicken bolognese, lamb’s fry with tomato, chicken and kumara, vegetable lasagna and a disgusting selection of apple with plum desserts.  So he went to another store and still couldn’t find it.

With Steve out on his baby food odyssey, I resorted to tuna in olive oil.  I managed to get him to eat a tablespoon but that was it.  I tried everything – shredded boiled chicken at room temperature, then I tried gently heating it, smeared it with butter (oh how this cat loves butter), more tuna, more olive oil.  Nothing.  And that was very bad news.

As soon as Steve got back I decided I was going to find plain baby food come hell or high water.  Off I went to a third grocery store.  In the back of my mind, I thought Steve may have not looked hard enough, or better yet, he must have been looking in the specialty baby food section because the flavors he found were simply ridiculous.  Nope.  At the third store I encountered the most horrifying array of pureed food combinations meant for babies.  Now is not a good time to be a baby.

Dejected, I left with a couple of tins of wet catfood.  I tried tempting Gordy with a dollop of it, but still no appetite.  Fed up, I dumped the catfood in our blender, added water and turned it into a smoothie.  Taking advantage of Gordy’s heavily sedated condition, I wrenched open his mouth and force fed him with a syringe.  Every two hours, Steve would hold The Gord, I would force open that mouth and we’d get 10mls of food in him.  By the end of the evening, tired and defeated, I waved the bowl of cat food slurry under his nose and that’s when it happened – he polished off the smoothie himself.  Finally, after almost two days of cajoling and pleading, Gordy was eating again.

His energy is returning which is good for him, bad for me.  I still have to jab him with needles and I guess I’ll keep doing it until we either finish the meds (because goddamit we already paid for them) or I lose an eye.  Whichever happens first, I suppose.

The ever so gross continual and uncontrollable diarrhea seems to have lessened as well.  I don’t know which had me more frazzled, finding ways to make Gordy eat or chasing him around the house with baby wipes.  The poor cat can’t use the litterbox in peace.  As soon as he heads in that direction, I stand watch until he’s finished.  Then I have the enviable task of reading his eliminations like tea leaves.  Adding insult to injury, I record my findings on the whiteboard – time, color, consistency, volume, etc.

So if you happen to be in the neighborhood and pop over for a visit, be warned.  There are things written on that whiteboard that can’t be unseen.  If you are of the squeamish sort, consider stopping by next week, instead.

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