Thomas has been away at the vet's for a few nights. I noticed on Monday night that he was having difficulty peeing, so it's off to the emergency vet, who diagnosed Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease. Oh good. A blocked urethra, in spasms. They had to catheterise the poor mite. And now he's come home, with a special diet, which he doesn't think much of. So I have to have two separate menus for each cat, and try to make sure that he doesn't eat any of Emma's. This new diet makes his pee alkaline, so that he doesn't form urethra-blocking crystals.
He's a bit miffed that I've taken him away from his adoring public. He's totally charmed everyone he's met, the nurses, the vets, what a flirt! So now he only has one woman to adore him, and of course, typical male, it's not enough. It's like when you send your child to hospital and they come back thoroughly spoiled.
So now I have two cats with chronic illness. (Emma has recurrent rhinotracheitis). I'd better find that rich hubby real fast. Or better yet, a vet.
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