This month marks 16 years with Aremid. This cat defines me. There is no Toastie without Aremid.
But there will be someday. He can’t outlive me, because I don’t know who’d take him in.
And he may be on his ninth life right now. He’s been getting by with his hypothyroidism and irritable bowel for the last couple of years, with daily methimazole and prednisalone. But he’s been losing weight again and not being himself. He’s been hiding. He’s been listless, at times, and lethargic the rest of the time. He eats when there’s food in front of him, but I don’t see him making the effort to go and eat. He usually responds to me, but I am used to him always responding to me. His vocalizations, which have generally been whiny and annoying for 16 years, are now meek.
So it was not good news when the results came back from the vet that all of his bloodwork came out fine. This means we don’t know what’s wrong. We’ll probably put him on an antibiotic just in case there’s an undetected infection.
I should break out my real camera, which has been out of sight since Mexico six months ago, but I suppose I don’t really want great pictures of Aremid looking so bad.
He actually doesn’t look quite so bad in the picture from the vet’s office back on Friday. But he seem to have gotten worse over the last three days.
All this being said, I am not at all ready for the “he’s lived a good life” sentiments.
That being said, he’s right next to me on the couch now, and, the way he looks right now, I’m worried.
February 1 was Aremid’s 16th Birthday (observed). I didn’t do anything to observe it, but as far as he’s concerned, everyday is his birthday. As he gets older and frailer, he grows even more attached to me, and I give him even more attention. I’ve learned that 90% of his irritating, incessant meows are simply cries for attention. This is cat who longs to loved…all the time.
So what if he’s such a pain in the ass. He pees and poops in random places. He runs his nails down the wall when he’s stressed. His vet bills over the last few years have been ridiculous.
And yet, I will be devastated the day he is gone. I’ve spent nearly half of my life with this cat.
So, I will observe his birthday now. 16 pictures for 16 years.
I love this cat. When he’s good, he’s so good.
I know I’ve taken this same picture what seems like a hundred times. But he’s almost 16. Maybe it used to be overkill, but now, I mean, he’s 16. So any picture I take of him at this point is special, right?
After I railed on Petsmart for advertising a Black Friday sale on a cat tree that had not been previously sold anywhere, I picked one up Friday morning, anyway. It’s a good price for a solid cat tree, and Aremid has needed a new one. I did not get up particularly early to do this, and there were no lines at Petsmart, so I don’t count this as having observed Black Friday. Just for the record.
Even though Aremid will spend an entire day whining for no apparent reason, and he’ll poop and pee in random places, he’ll still do this full curl he’s been doing for 15 years, and so he gets to stay.
Unfortunately, there has been no slumber for me tonight. Insomnia.
Yeah, I was meaning to post What I Did On My Summer Vacation 4, 5, 6, and 7, maybe 8, but I’ve settled into blog apathy. Maybe tomorrow.