Cat-Dog is Eating Again!
Okay! Life is good once more!
The cat has begun to eat again. I was all over the place yesterday scrounging the supermarket shelves for anything that he might eat. I bought cat milk and I had the baby food ready just in case he didn't eat anything. I opened a bunch of different kinds of cat food and laid it out for him to choose from. He didn't touch any of them, and at that point, I was resigned to the fact that he was never going to eat, ever again. I force-fed him the milk, just so he would have something in his stomach. He hated it like anything, but at least he didn't barf it up. At this point, he's swimming in antibiotics, too.
So last night, we had a birthday party to go to. I left all the different food laid out. I stirred the food because its gotten a bit dry. I took out his favorite tasty treat and hand-fed it to him. He ate a bit of it, but I wasn't optimistic, as he had done this that very first day he'd refused everything else. And so he ate a tiny bit, and he looked up at me after that and gave a plaintive little mew. I had no idea what it meant, as I don't speak Cat, but he was very weak and I contemplated staying home just to take care of him. I figured in my head that I couldn't swing an excuse that wouldn't have my husband very worried about my mental health.
I had to go, so I refreshed his water bowl (Cat's, not Husband's), told him he was a good cat, and left. Hubby and I got home from our party at around 2:30 in the morning and lo and behold, he had eaten the Whiskas bits!!! He finished the entire packet and I was just so ecstatic. Cat seemed better, too, since he met us at the door and was jumping around. I took out his favorite toy and we played a bit even if I was going cross-eyed from need of sleep.
Thanks to everyone who offered advice and a listening ear. I know it sounds silly, but this cat really means a lot to me, since it's the very first pet I can truly say *I* am taking care of. All the other cats in my life were co-raised by my mom and mother's househelpers. Believe me when I say that when my mother found out that I did the cleaning of the litterbox everyday, the nail-clipping, the grooming, and the carpet scrubbing for cat-barf messes, she was--well, she was shocked. And she actually said--and I shit you not--"You ARE grown-up!"
So the million-dollar question is: Was it because Cat was spoiled that he didn't eat, or was it because he was really sick, and the antibiotics, in some weird way, finally worked?
The cat has begun to eat again. I was all over the place yesterday scrounging the supermarket shelves for anything that he might eat. I bought cat milk and I had the baby food ready just in case he didn't eat anything. I opened a bunch of different kinds of cat food and laid it out for him to choose from. He didn't touch any of them, and at that point, I was resigned to the fact that he was never going to eat, ever again. I force-fed him the milk, just so he would have something in his stomach. He hated it like anything, but at least he didn't barf it up. At this point, he's swimming in antibiotics, too.
So last night, we had a birthday party to go to. I left all the different food laid out. I stirred the food because its gotten a bit dry. I took out his favorite tasty treat and hand-fed it to him. He ate a bit of it, but I wasn't optimistic, as he had done this that very first day he'd refused everything else. And so he ate a tiny bit, and he looked up at me after that and gave a plaintive little mew. I had no idea what it meant, as I don't speak Cat, but he was very weak and I contemplated staying home just to take care of him. I figured in my head that I couldn't swing an excuse that wouldn't have my husband very worried about my mental health.
I had to go, so I refreshed his water bowl (Cat's, not Husband's), told him he was a good cat, and left. Hubby and I got home from our party at around 2:30 in the morning and lo and behold, he had eaten the Whiskas bits!!! He finished the entire packet and I was just so ecstatic. Cat seemed better, too, since he met us at the door and was jumping around. I took out his favorite toy and we played a bit even if I was going cross-eyed from need of sleep.
Thanks to everyone who offered advice and a listening ear. I know it sounds silly, but this cat really means a lot to me, since it's the very first pet I can truly say *I* am taking care of. All the other cats in my life were co-raised by my mom and mother's househelpers. Believe me when I say that when my mother found out that I did the cleaning of the litterbox everyday, the nail-clipping, the grooming, and the carpet scrubbing for cat-barf messes, she was--well, she was shocked. And she actually said--and I shit you not--"You ARE grown-up!"
So the million-dollar question is: Was it because Cat was spoiled that he didn't eat, or was it because he was really sick, and the antibiotics, in some weird way, finally worked?