March 14

Last night I began to mourn the loss of my kitty’s personality. She still has some of her quirks but her playful self is long gone. No longer does she play “toe mice” while we try to go to sleep. No longer does she run around the house playing with her toys. No longer does she beg us to throw her toys up and down the stairs. My rascal has been replaced by a sick kitty. It is even harder when petting her. She is skin and bones, just running my hand across her back I can feel every link of her spinal column in a constant row of tiny peeks and valleys.

However this morning she gave us hope, yet again. She was her usually self, begging for food with her whiney little meows. Mike gave her half a can, which she usually takes all day to eat. Not this morning! She devoured about 90% of her food. Following which she was a good girl and took her medicine. Her Prednisolone even fell out of the pill pocket and she still ate it, Mike was laughing joyfully at her. A little while later I picked her up and found one back paw to be covered in dried up poo. She was cleaned up and my husband saw this as a sign of hope. This all seemed to start, in his eyes, when she got poo on her the last time, so he is hoping this is the end of the cycle. I’m just hoping the chicken she ate last night didn’t go through her!

I’m hoping she will be still full of energy and eating well when we come home from work tonight. The main thing that scares me with this disease is that I know she can turn for the worse at any time. One day she could be doing well, the next day paralysis can take over. I can only pray she continues to do well.