Thursday 28 February 2008

Kevin Update 2

A peaceful night, sleeping soundly, tucked up with me; some purring, which made me realise he hasn't been purring recently. The magic wand of antibiotics?

And then a quiet day, not looking exactly better, but clearly not distressed or restless like yesterday.

He has had a change of heart about his expensive special food - now it's black poison that cannot possibly be eaten by any self-respecting cat......though now that a bit of tuna has been mixed in with it, maybe a mouthful or two......? Ooh, and is that raw chicken?

The internet yields a wide range of conflicting expert opinions on diets for cats with kidney failure, with many condemning the very same diet that I have been persuaded to buy for Kevin. It is so confusing and downright alarming that I will follow the ones that say I can feed him certain foods along with the special diet rather than risk him losing even more weight. As Kevin is almost eighteen-and-a-half, I am not hoping for miracles, but need to be sure that I have tried all that can be done for him, which includes waiting for all the tests to be completed before making any decisions or writing him off as a hopeless case. Meantime, I shall feed him little bits of stuff that he likes, encourage him to drink water, and watch him carefully (for carefully, read broodingly and obsessively). He is the last of the Magnificent Seven, and when he goes, that will be the end of an era that began in 1977 when I moved here with two cats and began collecting waifs and strays.

(Harry doesn't count; he can have an era all to himself, perhaps one which marks the current national trend of obesity in man and beast; the Mega-Mog years....He didn't need to be rescued, just rehomed, and as I fell in love with him on sight, no one else got a chance to take him.)

Anyway, enough cat talk. I am worn out with the strain of it all. But James won Masterchef, and all's right with the world. It was a gripping series, but one which made me realise that I really can't cook very well or adventurously at all. Thank goodness I make decent cheese scones for my friends and know how to open cans of tuna for my ancient moggies; that will have to suffice as culinary self-worth for now.

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