Bagel, one of our nearly 17 year old trio of littermates, stopped eating, drinking and peeing over the weekend. Kidneys. The vet hydrated him Monday morning, but Mrs. Dr. Phil reports from the vet it's all inevitable now. The hydration will make him feel better for a while. He's drinking a little water, still wanders down to the litter box and eats a little of the food-in-a-tube off a finger, but not really interested in wet or dry food.
Mrs. Dr. Phil had bought this nice warm fuzzy soft kitty bed earlier in the winter. See, Sam, the Dark Wonder, had become diabetic, and though he's doing pretty darn good on insulin, he's a skinny little kitty now -- and the big kitty room in the basement gets cool in the night. Tuesday evening, Bagel was still in the kitty bed, so Mrs. Dr. Phil brought bed and all upstairs.
The quilt cover is much to give him a nice little cave as to keep him warm, since we've got the lights on up here.
Still, he surprised us by poking his head out, getting out, going downstairs, coming back up and hopping with a little difficulty back into his kitty bed.
With his kidneys mostly shut down and not eating, I guess he's technically starving to death. We're still keeping him comfortable. He got combed tonight. He's still purring. But unless he starts eating again, he's not going to get better.
Helping with Christmas Dinner 2008 -- in happier more Bagel-like times.
This is Mrs. Dr. Phil's special kitty, who has an extra special place in her heart for big soft orange ex-boy kitties. So this isn't easy for us. (sigh)