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adiva_calandia. . . Um.
I just got off the phone with my mother, who's been badgering me to call.
A while ago I mentioned -- at least to some of you in chat, I know -- that my cat, Quaxo, had developed some kind of bladder problem, which I guess is this, where crystals develop in the urine. The vet started him on special food that fixes it, but he wasn't eating it.
He's been at the vet's for -- I don't even know how long, Mom didn't say, and she hasn't mentioned any of this until tonight. Or maybe she has, in those mass e-mails she sends out, and I just haven't been paying attention. He's been there at least over the weekend, because she said he didn't start eating the food until this weekend.
They bring him home tomorrow, but if he stops eating again, things look bad.
He's . . . geez, he's about four years old. We don't know exactly how old he is because he was a stray. I have exactly very few pictures of him because he's camera-shy; as soon as he sees a camera he ducks his head so you can't see his face. He has a snaggle-tooth that makes him look very fierce, and a perfect white tip on his tail, and a white bib and belly, which is why I named him for Quaxo from Cats (also because basically I'm an enormous dork). He likes to groom our noses. He has terrible breath.
He had a bunch of uncertain health issues when he was a kitten -- the pads of his paws had something weird going on, and the vet said that the only time he'd seen anything comparable was cats who jumped up on hot stoves and burned their paws. His jaw is a little crooked, possibly from breaking and healing. He's sturdy and very small and must have gone through quite a bit before we adopted him from my aunt's farm. He's a mouser.
I've been allergic to him ever since summer of 2006, when I spent two months in the Lower 48 and lost any allergen tolerance I'd built up to him. He used to sleep with me before that; not any more, because if he comes into my room I have an allergy attack and don't sleep and it's bad.
He purrs like a damn motor at the slightest provocation, and will come up to us, rub around our legs, and then flop on his side with a look that says Why haven't you picked me up yet, exactly?
I miss him so, so much. Every time I see a lolcat I think But Quaxo is even sweeter.
Our dog died when my sister was at college. I don't -- I don't want Quaxo to die, period. But I don't want him to die when I'm not there, when I haven't seen him since January.
I can't believe I have to write two more papers.
I just got off the phone with my mother, who's been badgering me to call.
A while ago I mentioned -- at least to some of you in chat, I know -- that my cat, Quaxo, had developed some kind of bladder problem, which I guess is this, where crystals develop in the urine. The vet started him on special food that fixes it, but he wasn't eating it.
He's been at the vet's for -- I don't even know how long, Mom didn't say, and she hasn't mentioned any of this until tonight. Or maybe she has, in those mass e-mails she sends out, and I just haven't been paying attention. He's been there at least over the weekend, because she said he didn't start eating the food until this weekend.
They bring him home tomorrow, but if he stops eating again, things look bad.
He's . . . geez, he's about four years old. We don't know exactly how old he is because he was a stray. I have exactly very few pictures of him because he's camera-shy; as soon as he sees a camera he ducks his head so you can't see his face. He has a snaggle-tooth that makes him look very fierce, and a perfect white tip on his tail, and a white bib and belly, which is why I named him for Quaxo from Cats (also because basically I'm an enormous dork). He likes to groom our noses. He has terrible breath.
He had a bunch of uncertain health issues when he was a kitten -- the pads of his paws had something weird going on, and the vet said that the only time he'd seen anything comparable was cats who jumped up on hot stoves and burned their paws. His jaw is a little crooked, possibly from breaking and healing. He's sturdy and very small and must have gone through quite a bit before we adopted him from my aunt's farm. He's a mouser.
I've been allergic to him ever since summer of 2006, when I spent two months in the Lower 48 and lost any allergen tolerance I'd built up to him. He used to sleep with me before that; not any more, because if he comes into my room I have an allergy attack and don't sleep and it's bad.
He purrs like a damn motor at the slightest provocation, and will come up to us, rub around our legs, and then flop on his side with a look that says Why haven't you picked me up yet, exactly?
I miss him so, so much. Every time I see a lolcat I think But Quaxo is even sweeter.
Our dog died when my sister was at college. I don't -- I don't want Quaxo to die, period. But I don't want him to die when I'm not there, when I haven't seen him since January.
I can't believe I have to write two more papers.
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no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 02:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 03:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 03:55 am (UTC)And either way you have a great deal of sympathy from me and good thoughts being though your and Quaxo's ways.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 04:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 04:16 am (UTC)Thinking good thoughts for you all.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 08:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 10:22 am (UTC)*snuggles, lots*
I will think very good thoughts for the health of your baby.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 01:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 10:00 pm (UTC)*hugs*