When the cat's away the mice are sad and lonely

Cherubino isn't doing so great. For a few weeks he was showing signs of increased health: weight gain and stabilization and a bit more pluck. We started him again on the prednisone and, whether that was a trigger or merely timing, he started declining again. He is now about 11.5 lbs. (maybe less since we haven't the heart to weigh him yet this week), is not eating and has figured out how to throw up his pills once we give them to him. Although he still comes in to sleep with me at night and is gentle, he pretty much sleeps in one or two spots upstairs all day, not coming down to play at all or even great us or guests. This from a cat who would come running the second he heard the front door, jumping on guests like a dog. He's not unkempt but, for a cat who used to be incredibly vain, his fur is a bit ruffled, as if he's not bothering grooming very much. I can count his vertebrae and feel all the bones of his pelvis. It's terrible.

Tonight Eli drove him out to Buffalo Grove (BFBG) so the oncologist can see him first thing tomorrow morning. This is the first time he's spent the night away from home since he was fixed. (Although, even then, it might have been a one day thing, I can't quite remember.) The thought of him alone in a kennel surrounded by other sick animals makes me queasy, but the oncologist is leaving for a vacation on Friday and this is the only way he can be seen before July 6. I'm praying the oncologist can recommend something to get him over this hump -- I'm willing to bring him in for chemo every week if I need to -- but I'm not too optimistic. Hopefully they can give him an IV and help me with suggestions to put a little weight and strength back in my brave boy.

Very sad.