As feared, Becket has lost his little mind again. I was hoping she could spend her last (likely) week curled up with him like usual, but I'll settle for keeping him from attacking her. I don't entirely condemn him - she doesn't even smell right to ME. She's roaming from favorite spot to favorite spot, and we were doing okay until last night when she came over to get up on the couch with us. He started screaming like I was vivisecting him (and believe me, I was tempted.)
I locked him in the basement for the night. Blocked the door with a forty pound box of litter. Can you believe that little fucker managed to push the door open? Nonetheless, they're both out, and so far there's peace.
I got my first full dose of meds into her this morning. Famotidine for nausea, cyproheptadine for appetite, and buprenorphine for pain. The fact that I could get all of those into her tells me how far gone she is - she is a past master of spitting out a pill that you could swear she swallowed. She ate a little last night - I'm following her around with the food bowl, although honestly, I doubt that I really need to worry about her not eating and coming down with hepatic lipidosis at this point.
But she purrs for me - the purr is bigger than she is - and she crawled into my lap last night. Which made me cry hysterically. I need to get this under control before Bob gets back from King & Queen's Archery tonight. I need to figure out how to explain this all to Charlotte.
She gets the famotidine and cyproheptadine twice a day - that's easy. The buprenorphine is two to three times a day. I figure if I can dose her at 6:00, 2:00, and 10:00, that should keep her as comfortable as possible. Right now I'm trying to figure out if I can practically manage to come home from work to give her the mid-day painkiller and then go back to the office. It might work. My boss has pets, and I doubt it will be for more than a week. I noticed that while the vet said that she *might* go a couple of months, they sent me home with five days of meds.
I can't believe that she is going so quickly, and so slowly, all at one time.
I locked him in the basement for the night. Blocked the door with a forty pound box of litter. Can you believe that little fucker managed to push the door open? Nonetheless, they're both out, and so far there's peace.
I got my first full dose of meds into her this morning. Famotidine for nausea, cyproheptadine for appetite, and buprenorphine for pain. The fact that I could get all of those into her tells me how far gone she is - she is a past master of spitting out a pill that you could swear she swallowed. She ate a little last night - I'm following her around with the food bowl, although honestly, I doubt that I really need to worry about her not eating and coming down with hepatic lipidosis at this point.
But she purrs for me - the purr is bigger than she is - and she crawled into my lap last night. Which made me cry hysterically. I need to get this under control before Bob gets back from King & Queen's Archery tonight. I need to figure out how to explain this all to Charlotte.
She gets the famotidine and cyproheptadine twice a day - that's easy. The buprenorphine is two to three times a day. I figure if I can dose her at 6:00, 2:00, and 10:00, that should keep her as comfortable as possible. Right now I'm trying to figure out if I can practically manage to come home from work to give her the mid-day painkiller and then go back to the office. It might work. My boss has pets, and I doubt it will be for more than a week. I noticed that while the vet said that she *might* go a couple of months, they sent me home with five days of meds.
I can't believe that she is going so quickly, and so slowly, all at one time.
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kls_eloise- kls_eloise
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It's her time - I know that. I also know that it's ME that I'm sad for. We've been here before, and we'll be here again, I'm sure.
Luckily for me, I work with a group of animal lovers - so a certain amount of weepiness won't be a problem. It's so hard to lose them - and yet we keep doing it...
My sympathies; I hope your work is understanding with personal time.
That's basically what I've told her - that Nishka is very old, and very sick, and this time the doctor can't make it better. I've had a lot of serial bad luck with fish, so on some level she understands that things die, and that means they don't come back. This is all harder on me than on her. After all, I've had the cat longer than I've had her...
Work is very understanding - my boss is fantastic.
*hugs*