Walking On Eggshells

It's been a bit nerve-wracking today. I took Grendel on a long walk this afternoon, and I checked at the veterinary clinic to see how W. Spotticus Maximus was doing. After my previous entry, Sassinak convinced me to take Spot in last night, and considering her state, I'm glad I did. It just got the treatment going 14 hours sooner. I'm trying not to feel guilty about not taking her to the clinic sooner.

She's definitely suffering from acute kidney failure right now, and apparently her potassium levels are not very good either. It's all an indicator that this might be the bitter end for the combative barncat. She's getting rehydrated with IV, and hopefully the fluids will kick start the kidneys again.

Spot was born in Paris, ON, on August 18th, 1991. She's a Parisite, through and through. Her mum was a mostly white tortoise shell cat, and her dad was a barncat from somewhere near Chesley. Male parentage unknown, but likely a fearsome critter that ruled the area in the vicinity of his farm. The attitude comes through in Spot. She was never one to shirk the responsibility of telling the humans off when it was necessary.

I am hoping the strong 'tude, as they say in the vernacular, will carry her through her current problem. Some of her feistiness is showing apparently, so the Doctors haven't given up hope just yet (ka-ching). I guess I'll know later whether she's going to make it or not. I'm just glad my friends are around, and they can help me through my four-legged friend's ordeal. Sassinak and I are both a little bummed out. It would be nice to hear the deep throated growl as Grendel gets too close for comfort again.