GRACIE UPDATE: The blood test results are in. My half-feral, clinically obese cat has HYPERTHYROIDISM. Hyper. How this happens in a cat her size is beyond me (and even the veterinarian). I am now required to administer medication to my pet just as many times daily as I am to my own son with special needs.
Oh, sure, I was in need of a good distraction from my problems this holiday season, but figuring out how to give this nasty beast a pill twice a day is a bit much. I tried canned food yesterday, and she wasn't having it. She hates meat. She loves margaritas, but somehow I think that might create more problems.
Hopefully, her daily diarrhea will cease now and she will be more comfortable. I'm half-afraid she will become pleasant and agreeable, as we all have endured 10 years of feline freak show at this point. Time will tell. If I didn't love her so darned much, I wouldn't go through all of this. But I do. She is a reminder of much simpler times and doesn't mind being crammed in my armpit at night for a good cuddle.
Wish me luck.
Labels: cat, diagnosis, Gracie, veterinarian