(This is another sad post about our sick cat, although there is some knitting content at the end. Feel free to go to more cheerful and witty blogs, like this one.)
Cats (and probably other animals) have the strangest behavior when they are sick. They want to be alone, and they don't want to be found. This trait is protective; sick animals are vulnerable to predators, so they try to hide their weakness. And this trait has taken a bizarre turn for Jezebel. She's hiding in her litter box.
I spent the several hours yesterday at the emergency vet. Jez had gone into deep hiding and I couldn't find her. I was very concerned that she hadn't eaten anything for about 12 hours, nor had anything to drink. So after I found her, it was off to the emergency vet to get another diagnosis (nothing new, although the vet sort of ruled out IMHA, saying it was very rare in cats) and subcutaneous fluids. While we were waiting in the exam room, Jez seemed like her normal self. She was alert, curious, and even wanted to curl up on my lap. The vet recommended moving her food and water, litter box, and snug box into a small room. We sort of did that by moving everything into the kitchen. We just can't get used to the fact that Jez doesn't want to be around anyone. We feel that we need to be there to give her reassurance and love. All that she wants is to be alone and be in a small, dark space. And in the kitchen, that would would be her litter box. I think we need to try another space. I don't like the idea of her living in her litter box.
It didn't hit me how far down I am until we went to our friends' house for dinner last night. Jim and Lynda are a lot of fun and great hosts. But all I could think about was Jezebel and compare how she is now to Jim and Lynda's dog, Pete the Dog. Petey is a sweet little dog and so cute. But he wanted loves and Jez didn't. He played with his toys and Jez doesn't. I've lost several pounds in the last week because I have no appetite. My eyes frequently "leak." (This is actually not unusual; my mother wouldn't let me watch Lassie when I was a young child because I would get very upset whenever Lassie got hurt, which she did on every show). I think I'm exhibiting all the signs of classic depression.
There is some good news. Jez ate three little kitty treats when we got home last night and she ate four treats this morning before retreating back into her litter box. Our friend Leigh gave her a homeopathic remedy yesterday and that seemed to help a little bit. We'll try it again today. I'll probably make another trip to the emergency vet tomorrow for more fluids. I just want our little cat back to normal.
There has been some knitting. I continued working on the cuff of the Leaves of Grass sock and have about two more inches before I start working the heel. I'm wondering if it's a good idea to continue this project, given that I'm working on it in such a sad state. If Jez doesn't survive, I'll never wear the socks. I could work on my nieces' sweaters, but one is complicated cables and the other is Fair Isle and I'm not sure I've got the appropriate amount of concentration to do justice to either sweater. The Too-Many-Choices top is a simple stitch pattern and isn't intended for me. I might cast on for that today, after I obtain a 4mm crochet hook. The pattern calls for a 4mm/US F, but the pattern is wrong. The F size is only 3.75 mm. The moral of that story? Pay attention to the metric size, not the US size.
Okay, that's about it. Hopefully I'll be able to get back to a cheerful state soon. If you've read this far, thanks for hanging in there with me.