Sick House

Before we left Arizona, almost everyone of the eleven people there was feeling a bit under the weather. Maddie had come down with a cold, fever, faucet-nose, and horrible little cough. Several of us adults had sore throats. When Mom and I left on Friday, she and I both felt worse and worse. When we got home I found Jeffery (my old cat) sitting in a corner, facing the garage wall and looking like he was near death. I tried to force feed him some water - he looked dehydrated and his eyes were caked shut - but it didn't work. The few drops of water that did get into his stomach caused the loudest stomach growling ever - I've never heard a cat's stomach growl. We deduced that Jeffery hadn't moved since my dad left on Tuesday - meaning he'd been without food or water for 4 days. He ate one tiny piece of cat food and I put some milk in front of his face - which he drank. Then he started moving a bit. Saturday morning, the vet confirmed that Jeff hadn't eaten or had any fluids since we'd left for Arizona. "Next time tell them you're leaving," he said.

Today we have to give Jeffery a shot - neither Mom nor I is sure we could do it alone, but if we're both here, maybe. Watching a cat die is about the saddest thing. I'm predicting poor ol' Jeff will pass (is that right, Liz?) by the time I graduate and move home for the summer.