HOME!

I picked him up at about 4:30 today. I asked them to put him in his carrier while they had him out, so we could avoid the switch back a couple of times.

They said he did all of his necessary potty stuff while sedated. What guy! So they took blood, gave him a tummy shot, measured and weighed and whatever they needed.

It was a mere 108 today, so I brought a wet chilled towel to drape across the cage, to keep him cool.

It was the nicest thing! He was groggy but not at all ticked off. Just out of it enough not to say anything, but I was so thrilled: he kept sticking his nose out on my side. No complaining, just sniffing me!

When we got home, he was exploding fur and looking wet-down. The last was is to clean up all they can of the fur and I approve of the sedation. I think the blood in his furball yesterday was from his bad attitude! Hissing, growling and making himself a drama queen about it all while the little girl next door was all cuddly and lovey! He was living in stress. The sedatives made it easier on all of us. Him most of all.

By the time he was back home, introduced to new litter, a re-arranged household, and a couple of treats which he chased as usual, although with noticeably less vigor, I only got one or two editorial grumbles from him.

He went under the couch for a while and I talked him into a couple of brief rests on my lap!

There is a far away look in his eye, but he is very much NOT at all the worse for wear.

I feel his shoulder blades which were seriously bony when he left seems a bit meatier! He is walking a bit weak kneed, not sure how to explain it, but his eyes are looking around and well focused, just seriously ignoring me.

This is from less than half an hour home. He looks JUST fine now. Aloof but fine.

The cool part, and I may be hallucinating, is the little lump in his neck, smaller than a dime, that I would rub under his chin and he would occasionally choke a tiny bit when I did . . . I have not rubbed vigorously, but I SWEAR it is gone! Perhaps Mom is wishing it away but I cannot find it and he is breathing just great no matter how I scratch his chin!

WOW!

Back to watching him.

Saturday Morning.

I called them around 10.

They are busy today so I am going on the "NO NEWS . . ." good news principle.

Rhiannan said he had not taken any water or food overnight (they tend to check at 7 for weigh in and food) but as he had eaten they have no problems. I made sure they would call if there was any stool report. They gave him his first shot and again, no news.

I have decided the white tile and shower of my bathroom make a perfect little hide out for him while he cools down this week.

They won't let us sleep together, which is not how we do it. Contact is more at his "beck and call" than cuddle or "sleep together!" Short and intermittent contact is the norm but at night he sometimes sneaks up on the bed nearby.

I figure there is plenty of room for food, toys and scratching and even a cozy room in the shower for hiding out. Just would rather clean up radioactive barf off a tile floor than hunting it down under beds.

Going to get his disposable litter box and a bit more food for him to have in case he is stubborn and won't eat the usual stuff.

Glad to have his ugly scratcher go! I don't know that he much used it, but I was comforted that he had something to relieve his frustration . . . which he probably did NOT. . . which means we will be getting it at home tonight!!!

Will see you later this evening.!

MOM Is Feeling Better.

I went to bring a can of softer food for him. PERSONALLY (and you know, I don't even play a vet on TV!!) I think the panting, hissing and panic has left him with a raw throat and the panic eating is wearing out his esophagus.

When I went in Katherine was my guide today, as Melanie is off for a longer weekend. (they are open 24 hours a day so they have a lot of staff in and out). This morning we just breezed in through his grump.

This afternoon when we put out the soft food, I pushed it under his nose and he did a healthy munch on it. The Doctor who had called me earlier had a nice chat with me. I really ran out of questions.

Although I was doing everything in my power to manipulate them into letting him come home early, I kept reminding myself that I WAS NOT A VET. They do a good job and are professionals. They pointed out that injecting an antacid quickly while looking him over was fast and painless. I talked them out of anti-nausea meds because he was not actually nauseated if he was throwing a fur ball but something was amiss on the way up.

They will watch his stool tonight to see if it is dark or black and if it is normal, we will probably assume something in the throat. It might just go away and never be heard from again. I did have to authorize new medication (THANK ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE MADE IT EASIER TO SAY YES!!!) They will also inject him again on outgo, while he is groggy.

We had a good discussion about the sedation too.

Some of my great people online are concerned, as am I, about sedating him for baths and medication. Like my girlfriend pointed out, have you ever had a BAD blood pull????? Even if it is just a few pokes, the stress of the table, the isolation, the crowd of strangers, is really taking a toll on him. Kittie valium is a good thing.

And the baths.

I PERSONALLY have no ovaries or any such silliness in the child-producing department that would worry me about the exposure, but I do like that their procedure REQUIRES scrupulous monitoring of his levels and a concern for the lowest reasonable amount of rays to come home with me. I believe that he is licking a lot of his hair out even now! The hyperT coming on when he was flushed (another good thing - it encourages a HEALTHY thyroid GLAND to totally shut off and the nasties to do their worst so the I-131 could zap them all). I wanted him not to be sick again, but if his gland was working AT ALL and the disease was laying low, we would not do the best job we could. His shedding, his immediate oily fur (and I LOVED it that this doctor beat me to the punch!!!) I knew it was his being sick but never quite figured out how! His back would get very nasty. Not really anything. . . sort of like when a dog goes swimming on something he shouldn't on the curb you know?! He started that up at day 5! Full blown sick so all evil doers are gunned down. All that ugly hair won't have to come back home. We can leave it behind.

As I sat and petted him, this time he refused to make eye contact.

I sit on the ground in front of his cage and wear a big gown with cuffs and my lovely purple gloves, I kept trying to get him to say hi! Just the answer to my "Dood!" He scooched into the back wall. This time he didn't even try to get up. Hissing away. Not quite as nasty as this morning.

We opened a can of cheap Friskies pate (ha! Mush is better, but he likes licking it. Won't chomp on the shreads stuff. Just licks it up) And I stuck it under his nose. He ate. Made a good go of it.

I took it away not wanting to have him make himself sick again, but his eyes looked brighter. I can't say how, but although he was seriously ignoring me, he was glancing up and around a little more. His ears even looked pinker.

He flattened down again and with his eyes open he signified he was done with the visit.

I will get my call in the morning and I will spend the day puttering, setting up the new cat pan, prepping for where he will be hanging out when I don't want to hang out and putting out my cowboy boots for the evening's target practice from him.

An Issue.

On the way home they were leaving me a message. The fur ball we pulled out was pinkish and it was not color from kitty treats, it was apparently a bit of blood.

We suspect ulcers. They wanted to inject an anti nausea and some tummy meds. The barfing is about parr for his usual behavior but the blood is not.

Nor is the fur ball. He throws about three a year.

Normally he binges, eats a lot of dry food, tosses it and comes back to it later (if I am not there.) I wonder if it is the actual vomiting or the stress that is causing him to eat then vomit. He was doing it a LOT before we took him in. When the disease kicked back, he was pretty hungry but not really good at telling what he needed. I understand that is a little normal for HyperT - all the systems run in overdrive. Good news it that it is putting on weight.

The question is why blood?

I am going back this afternoon, as I saved up my geiger counted minutes so I have about 20 more. Not at all sure if he is happy to see me or mad that I did this to him. They think he is improving. His attitude is tolerant of them much more that the last few days.

This is trauma. Actually as freaked as I am I really DO believe more for him. What have I gotten myself into!????

I Shall Have HELL to Pay!

I liken him to a drama addict. The kitty next door is just happy to see people. My guy is really a bully. He sees very few people and tends to pretend he is a "cat", friendly prr's and chats and rubbing of legs with visitors.

When they leave, he just sits and "plots my demise".

That was all his pictures EVER looked like. He never would have a clue as to how to take care of himself, but I always knew he waited for that day.... and then he got older and sicker and started realizing I was useful.

When I first started giving him treats like cheese and bits of meat from my own meals he thought that was REALLY COOL and now he literally would pull my hand away from my face to sniff everything I brought into the living room as a snack. He is a bully!

Now in his cage, he is like a grumpy old neighbor, complaining about EVERYTHING! He threatens them when they come to clean up after his recent fur ball, he showed real teeth with me today.

I have found that backing him down works. I grab his head and scratch behind his ears and he is fine. But it is hard to do in a box!!!

I brought extra dry food as he was eating well and they ran out of the bag of goodies. They didn't want to court the runs with the other issues he had!

I stayed briefly and will be back later today to just put my face in. He is the king of his domain and absolutely a mess away from home.

I will be wearing cowboy boots in 100 degree days for the weekend at least! He will not be quick to forgive me!

Other than that, he seems quite fine.

Visiting Day

I got a call that he was receiving visitors at 3 and I put a cheese stick and jar of his treats in my purse and headed out.

I got some very bad photos, but there are some informative ones.

They gave me purple gloves and a big gown. I was NOT to let him out on the ground or hug him if possible. . . ha ha ha!

A big bank of rather lavish silver cages with stainless floors and walls. There were two cats side by side on the bottom and smaller cages above.

The still drugged, somewhat damp Dude sat in his cubicle, and greeted me with a very nasty hiss and growl. He is obviously not a happy drunk. Melanie alerted me to avoid punctures and bites, as (like Spiderman and his bug....?) he was still radioactive.

First thing he whacked at me. As usual, no real attempt to scratch, just the usual threat of violence. Can one have a verbally abusive cat? If he was talking he would have been bleeped on tv! He did not want to make contact really but I gave him a treat and instead of eating it, he shoved his head against my hand. When he realized it was food, he had a very hard time locating it. When he realized what it was, his aim was not so good and nearly got a finger. He was definitely a cat under the influence.

Finally I was rubbing his head. Aggressively. He was very fidgety and seemed like he needed a jog around the block. He was happy to have me there, but still more upset for all the activity going on around him. I think he may have just gotten into the big cage from the tiny ones.

I got half an hour visit today. That is all we get - 30 min. Tomorrow I will make it two 15's one early and one later. It was a little upsetting to see him wacked out. I want to see MY cat tomorrow.

Hopefully these work.

This is the treatment table in the isolation ward. There is a little lead lined box where they inject him then move him to one of the 6 small cages for three days.

The isolation ward

This is a bad shot of his new little cell where he will lounge for a couple of days, now that he is out. It is pretty spacious. He can dash around if necessary,

and the shot of his fond farewell as he growled me off into the sunset.

Early Call This Morning

Of course I freaked when the phone rang a little after 8.

All the news was good. He even stinked up his cage so he has eliminated through elimination the stuff he is supposed to.

He also threw up his food. That sounds awful, but he does that a lot. I think it is boredom. He chews on his dry food like I do potato chips. He is smart enough to barf it back. I gain weight and get migraines!

I was telling a friend online how, although my cat is not at all affectionate, occasionally demanding of attention, he has short interactions with me. He and I will check in. I hear him do a little mmmww under his breath and I say hi. He is sleeping in a corner too long and I will call out "Doood!" and he looks up, answers and goes back to sleep. He runs into my foot while I am sitting in a chair and rubs it. He HATES me to pick him up or pet him. It is ALL on his terms.

At night RIGHT about the time I doze off, he will plop himself on my tummy and indulge in quality petting. About five minutes and he is off.

When he first was getting well from the meds, he started falling asleep on me. THAT was so amazing! Living with a cat for 10 years that would LEAP on and leap off my chest (never my lap. That may have been partially due to his former 18 pound weight) for his own reward, actually being peaceful and happy enough to sleep with me, heartbeat to heartbeat. . .

I am going to bring a little cheese stick for him this afternoon. He has been called playful. That means I might wear my long sleeved shirt. We are not actively seeking bites or scratches while he still glows in the dark, but I bet he may want to express a bit of displeasure with his recent incarceration.

FUR-BALL!

The 4ish report was glowing. Biggest news was a furball. yippee.

Not a danged thing they could come up with to call news. I swear, I am pumping her but we agree, tomorrow around 3, we get to look in and have a visit.

I REALLY MISS HIM!

Thinking About Rescue and Adoption.

I sort of have said all this in the beginning of the blog but many of my rescue friends have been telling their stories of ill cats and I think a lot of what came to be my experience with how wonderful bringing a pet into your life is why the Dude being sick makes me think about The Kid (his namesake).

My first very own cat, the ORIGINAL Kid, and The Dude were neither officially adopted. The two loves of my life were little unwanted micro life forms that nobody wanted.

No humans that is.

THE Kid was brought into Bel Ray Institute in Denver in a pregnant Siamese mom whose life was ending. The litter was born but the mother was lost. My best girlfriend was studying to be a vet tech at the time. Perhaps I will have to credit (blame???) Barbara for all this rescue work I do. Her obsessive love of animals somehow found me driving across town with a shoebox full of litter and an oozy-eyed egg-sized life form that looked like it had black chicken pluckings glued on it. He was NOT a pretty sight. As we drove, I remember the FIRST amazing Siamese YOWL that nearly drove me off the road! Tiny body, but a full-throated wail that nearly burst my ears!

I was neither mother, nor cat material.

I honestly was saying "No" as it was put in my car as I left her house. On arrival home, the boyfriend was thrilled. His cat Feather, was the first cat I had ever really known to love.

She was a tripod. I also found through her, that indoor cats made less allergies! So in spite of nearly ALWAYS having one reddened nostril from a sniffle, I learned how wonderful living with a cat could be.

FEATHER was not happy. She had been a mother and was not up to any more kids, much less one that oozed!

Kid was amazingly small, but housebroken. His eyes needed a lot of ointment and we watched him carefully. At night we locked him in the bathroom. I am laughing as I type!!! I just remembered that my apartment was a second story in the great Washington Park part of Denver. The floor under the toilet had LITERALLY rotted a bit. There were gaping holes and we stuffed towels in them for fear he would fall through! His isolation at first was trying to be good cat parents. Feather began punishing us from the first. For what seemed like weeks, if he was around, she was missing.

Feather was a three-footed purr machine. She was a graceful and elegant silver tabby with bright green eyes. She was so beautiful, that new guests regularly would GASP outloud hours into the evening when they realized she was missing a back leg - an injury from her wild days in wild lands.

That kitty breath in my face with the kneading on my chest. Wow, the sensation is actually overwhelming now. She was a beautiful spirit.

So....she ignored us and him.... and then one day, in the irrepressible KID-ness of him, he was playing, she was ignoring and he would do his paws up "BIG CAT" thing, and topple to one side and try hard to engage her. She just glowered, then quite suddenly slapped a paw atop his shoulder blades while he was down and began grooming him, as if she had had quite enough of this sloppy little urchin.

So they became fused. She would take on the Border Collie that lived with us a while if he so much as wagged a tail in the Kid's direction. The maternal instinct just took over.

I read online of a real brain damage that I know he had. His twin sister literally had to be put down for her aggressive behavior. All the wicked that ended in her was drained from him. I even remember him purring when we had him put to sleep 18years later. In fear or in love, he would purr.

We knew he was different when after he lived (the name "the Kid" was because we didn't think he had the stamina and he was so ill that we figured if we didn't give him a name, we wouldn't miss him so much if he didn't make it) people commented on his odd walk. He sort of always kicked his back legs behind him as if he had a piece of tape on each foot.

Upon one of my friend's comment on the odd walk, I indignantly replied "He is no funnier than FEATHER!" and realized that she walked pretty funny herself!

Not only the odd gate, but he used to stick to the rug.

When he got over excited, his claws would sort of automatically grab and often he would forget to let go and trip himself on the floor. He used to leap up and run into the other room and miss.... hit the door and try again. He never needed catnip. And oddly I think it never did anything to him.

We got rid of our TV for two years and I honestly never missed it. I watched him approach life every day with excitement and kitty joy!

Once, I was walking around the house coming home from work and heard his howl. When I looked up, there he was. Having just learned to hop into window sills, he apparently thought it might be fun to climb the screen. Up in my window was a very crucified looking Kiddie, stuck - as was his habit, from fear - to the screen. I was laughing so hard when I in the apartment, I believe I may have offended him.

Through a couple more relationships and moves to two other states, I retained the "children" and when Feather finally died of congestive heart failure, I thought her purr would never be replaced. We did get another cat who was much happier outside. Kiddie and I got tighter and tighter.

He woke up my present beau in the night leaping into the tub and missing! He would sleep on my face which made the new relationship a LITTLE tricky, but KID was going to win, and if the boyfriend didn't like it he was gone.

The Kid lived to be 18. I used to say, if he were human, he would have graduated from high school. . . if he had made it through kindergarten! He had small tumors and finally one in his head.

The vet was so wonderful.

When we knew it was terminal, the vet said his quality of life would be fine. I would know when the right time came.

Kiddie began backing up, as if he had a headache about a week before I was due to go out of town. I had a sitter arranged but was torn up over what the definition of "misery" would be. Dr. Saltero said, "Why should he even have to BE miserable?"

I petted him and sat as his loud and fearful purring stopped.

I really love the sense that his WHOLE life was of giving and getting love. Even at the end.

so. . .

THE DUDE was assumed to be his spirit returned. His INDEPENDENCE is a whole other lesson.

Thanks for listening. The vet's office should be calling soon, but I fear the absence of fur in my face is stirring up allergies, because I seem to have runny eyes!!!

$141 Car is Back.

Short update, as I know you are all waiting breathlessly for any news. Well there is none, but I can go over tomorrow afternoon when they sound the all clear and feed him some goodies through the bars. At least I am out of MY cage. Thank heavens for warranties.

Wednesday Morning Report

I am just a potato.

The car is scheduled to be done this morning. . . that nebulous time until like 3 PM.

So I was watching tv and doing email and just waiting.

They outsmarted me today, as both times yesterday I called as Melanie was still in her garb from doing her rounds. She called right about 9. And her assessment was "FANTASTIC."

She said he was still hissing but after talking to me, had a better assessment of his personality. She said he even purred a little when he was examined. His urine is great but the bowel is a little slow. I warned her that he is VERY good at that part when it works!

She explained that the little cages have a litterbox and food and water and that my scratcher is a bit big for it. So she took the mousey off the board and he is cuddling it. AH. . . . He would probably be using the board to take his frustrations out on me but he will have to satisfy himself with a slightly catnipped sisal mousey which he doesn't really give a hoot about.

No weight GAIN, but he is stable, and stuff is going in. His panic attacks are diminished and he is apparently used to the gang. For now.

Tomorrow is bath day, and I won't be able to come see him until after 3.

They sedate him and want to be sure he is not limp when I get a look. Apparently is it 36 hours after treatment and they did him after 1 so they estimate a couple of hours to make him presentable.

I am pretty sure I will be able to take a few more snaps, maybe even of the isolation ward, when I go tomorrow. They have a bank of cages, a little roomier (vet dog size) and we can come scratch noses and feed treats for a couple of days. Then Friday again, then they will allow me to bring him back after the last bath on Saturday.

This all is great. They call it ALARA (As Low As Reasonably Achievable) radiation. This is another reason I was thrilled to use VCA instead of Radiocat. I was unhappy to make him sick for an additional 11 days, but Radiocat was fine with four days off meds. They understood I had misgivings, but I also could not see how the BEST effect could be achieved if they didn't maximize the activity of the disease. We had an ongoing miscommunication that was very frustrating.

They also would only keep him for the three days. YES AND NO. I live in a small house and was thrilled to see him back, BUT I like that VCA is monitoring him those two full days more. The days out of isolation and under the care of the staff is going to be good for ME. I am old enough to probably not have to worry about a lot of the issues that a younger woman would have from exposure, but my thyroid is just fine right now. Nice to keep it that way.

AND VCA is authorized to only do a top end of radiation. It should work fine on him, as he has a pretty high number, when he is tested later and his numbers should be fine, he comes up sick, they will RE-treat him at no added charge. This is very comforting, as the fund is all I have. I would NEVER be able to afford this twice!

Tomorrow - pictures!

4:45...You All Will Soon Get Bored, I KNOW. . .

So the car is going to be fixed (yes the warranty is good) first thing in the 100 degree morning. I have a free trolley that runs by my house and about half a block from the shop so I can get it with ease as long as it is earlyish.

Couldn't wait any longer and called the Vet hospital.

He is now officially a kitty grump. She said he is quite the hisser. Every time she opens the cage to get in or out he has an opinion. But he has not resorted to physical violence! She is unscathed.

He urinated just fine and she will have her wonder poop tonight! He was always good at that!

It seems his cell mate, the little girl, is indeed curious but he wants NOTHING to do with her. (I just bet it would be different if they took her away . . . he seems prone to separation anxiety. LOUD mournful cries when the neighborhood wanders depart, but not so much when they are there.

So.

This is a little like watching paint dry.

Speaking of paint, I suppose there is no excuse not to get a big portrait started now. I have literally nothing else to do!

9:45 AM Day Two

So we got the first overnight report.

He ate well, drank well but had, as of morning, nothing coming out. Well, the guy was ticked off at me YESTERDAY morning when he didn't get his breakfast, so he was probably empty. She said she will look in again in a little while, but that she was not concerned. . .

However, she did say he was a little bit less cooperative than she expected.

She said he hissed and batted at her when she went in to give him more water.

We were not concerned.

I explained that if he bats with his ears back, he means back off. Otherwise we play that way. The hiss? That is his quite clear announcement that he is not a happy camper. The Dude has always taken his stressers out on me. The Hiss is a very clear announcement that all is not right in his world. It really is not an very personal thing. He would run into the room when he was his sickest and just jump on my chest and hiss in my face. Not AT me, TO me. I explained that she should well heed him, but that he was announcing that he was going to write letters to the proprietor of the kitty spa! He rarely follows with a major nip.

And I did warn about the teeth. He is nippy. He boxes and has since he was teeny. His preferred plaything is hands. No fuzzy mousies, no birdies or balls. He likes matching wits with a human. So, I told her to watch those ears. If he bats with his ears plastered down, it is a warning. If they are up and tough, it is a challenge.... Better yet, just let him be grumpy and leave him alone.

Once he was chatting with a new neighbor through the screen. A cute petite female who looked like she might have a tag. I opened the door and she RAN in way before I could catch her. IMMEDIATELY the Dude began screaming! I would have thought he might want to say hi to her, or even joust her, but NOO. . . . . !! She darted right back out and he tore into my ankles and sliced and diced ME! Very obviously a complaint that his world would NOT tolerate intruders! I told the nurse that I tried to trim his front claws, that they looked pretty soft but for their own protection they MIGHT want to avoid them.

Well, that is a start. She did say she would call before she went home today and update the bodily functions report.

Hopefully they are well warned!

(The car is stuck in the shop. I apparently have a $200 plus issue which I should have over half covered by extended warranty. The repair should be easy. . . the bookwork will slow things down. So I sit for most of the day.)

CAR (not CAT) Issues Today.

(SHOOT! I swear I just heard him chatting in the other room. Either my ears or my head need adjusting!)

I am waiting for the first day post-procedure update. And the day BEFORE I took him in, my car started hesitating on start and downright grinding for a while! So, with all required events done, I took it to a nearby shop to see if the repair we did on the EXACT SAME THING earlier this year is a parts issue and warranteed or something new! So today I am required to sit - not the usual finding myself sitting.

I am low on coffee and deep in post walk-back-home endorphins and started thinking about this whole amazing project.

If you read back, you will find that I knew he was sick for a long time. As an artist in a bad economy I went to a seminar on how to raise funds . . . thinking it would be for support between commissioned work. As an off handed remark, the presenter read (from the list of projects on a site) "dog needs surgery" and went back into funding books and high rises.

!!!!!

I am on a very lean cash flow. Knowing that The Dude could be CURED not just managed was always eating in my brain but my cash flow being so negative it kept being pushed down.

After I headed home, I did a LOT of research. I realized I needed to understand ALL of the variables. I needed a real and worthwhile way of presenting my need, of letting people know who we were and why it was worth their time and money!

I am a blogger in the minimum. That means I do have one really respectable blog to expose my pet art called the Dog A Day Art Blog. I did one painting a day for over a year. It included commissions but mostly I sat my easel up in a local off-leash and practiced until I had covered most of the AKC breeds. . . MOST I say. . . Without fail, someone will bring in an intriguing mix that I will guess at and find it is the newest exotic! I will say, my knowledge of canine subjects is amazing since the last dog to live in my house was in the mid 80's!

Looking through the files (I know I have more photos, but they are on FLOPPY DISKS!!!) of the earliest Dude pix, I learned he was a bit younger (and an even better candidate for the procedure!) and really enjoyed skimming the overview of his life.

I can talk!

I can ramble on and on about what goes on in my head so I tended to be concise in my art blog and allow my words to dribble a bit here. After all, this is a love letter to my best friend.

(Sorry, family and boyfriend . . . but the original Kid was when I learned how very important the life form that sleeps at the foot of the bed EVERY night is above and beyond the two legged wandering types!)

I had to cut my first posts in bite sized chunks, just so I could call it a blog and not a novel!

I then searched all of the funding sites to see what suited us.

For others interested in crowd funding, google it! I was so touched by the idea! The very type of rush I get when I donate a portrait to a charity event is not just the reciprocal promotion, but the physical warmth I get knowing I am doing something good and tangible! But asking for help instead of giving it . . . I just didn't feel right.

I recently started picking carefully charities I would donate to because I was literally doing 80% freebies and not paying the bills. I joked that I WOULD BECOME A CHARITY SOON if this kept up. And I found a lot of people were in my boat. That we WANT to be part of the solution. It is not in my nature to shake fists at the dark, I am a candle lighter. But wickless!

The first donation I tried to give back. It was big. I got a scolding from the donor who explained that they felt SO GOOD helping me, that they had watched me online for years and KNEW me as a painter. To help me when I needed help was enriching them.

That completely blew my mind.

I am rambling as usual, but I wanted to reflect on how very amazing it is to be on the other end. Many of us out here (being self employed means I don't qualify for unemployment insurance between commissions, means I pay all of my income taxes, not just the employEE share and don't show up on statistics. At best I am under-employed but for months at a time, it doesn't feel like I am a very good boss.) want to keep the bounty flowing. I know there is a sort of constipation in the economy. It won't grow if it can't flow! I save money but have had to sort of become a hoarder. The emergencies don't announce themselves early. The wee income I do have has not found its way into the flow other than the ABSOLUTE necessities for quite a few years. After the Dude is well, I plan on adding my $5's and $10's to crowd sourcing activities on a regular basis.

I know how much that tiny little will help! I thank all of you who knew it before me!

4:15 and all is well. . .

I just got the call from the office and he is back awake, and they are going to give him some dry food and a bit of his cheap Friskies!

(He is NOT a picky eater, but when he got sick, he didn't eat. I started him on junk food and he loves the pate as a treat when I would give him his meds. So I threw a couple of cans of the usual in a baggie.)

Not much.

She says she will call tomorrow before 10 to see how his appetite is and what the post procedure effects are.

HOLY COW! Theoretically, I have a normal healthy cat after this! I am tearing up trying to remember what NORMAL was!

TODAY IS THE DAY!!

Here is the cage sitting in the vet's office waiting for them to come and take him away.

He had his little anxiety attack... and his mom is starting to be a mess.

You see, the vet said he has a slightly large heart.

That did freak me.

Feather had congestive heart failure. For a year or more, she just sort of sat in on a chair and watched life go by. The Dude is not in that condition. But . . .

He did his panting thing. Even the Radiology vet looked and wondered why. I explained he was having an anxiety attack. I KNOW he is.

They decided to change his meds from a simple knock out, bring back to feline Valium! PERFECT!

The whole procedure is less than 15 minutes. They do a bit of sedation to allow the injection and for a couple of baths that keep the radiation at the office and not in my living room.

Melanie, the girl who has helped me all the way along, said she will call me later this afternoon when he is done with the procedure and observed to be back to normal. He has a buddy who is coming in at 11 and both of them will get the procedure around 1. Then they sit in their very clean bank of cages with micro filtration banks of air sweepers for three days until they stop glowing.

From here on in, I hold my breath, go see what is wrong with my car (!?!?!?!?!) and hope that the sign over the desk is true: