The (Cat) Gods Must Be Crazy

I cannot believe that I have old cats. How did this happen? I had no idea that Larry was 13 until I was forced to do the math for a new veterinary office last fall. That means that in this house, we have Larry, now aged 14 (or thereabouts), Bean, aged 14 or (gasp) 15, and Mac, who is at least 10. It shouldn't surprise me that they are accumulating health problems as numerous as their whiskers, yet I find myself truly expecting them to live forever. They HAVE to live forever, by the way, because E and baby M love them. These cats must never die.

Larry's Fall Adventure (short version) included six (or more?) trips to the vet, a feeding tube, two nights of saying goodbye (sure he wouldn't make it until morning), and a miraculous recovery. He now looks and acts like a healthy, young kitten with a new lease on life. E calls him "Lar-Lar." Rhymes with "Bear-Bear." Betcha didn't know even nicknames have nicknames.

Mac's Belly Bomb was diagnosed last month as either something like IBD or Lymphoma, take your pick. Either way, the Big symptom is lots and lots of puke and a big old tummy ache. He's been on medication that he takes rather well, and he probably will be on it for the rest of his days. He seems happy enough and the puking has all but stopped, so we're just thinking happy thoughts for now.

Bean's Sugar Shake started a few months ago, when he was looking thin and lethargic. I brought him in to said vet and he was diagnosed with (EEK) diabetes. During a tearful meeting, I blubbered that I didn't want to start insulin, I couldn't deal with another sick cat, couldn't we do anything else? Please? So we changed diets (high protein, low carb) and crossed our fingers. Bean improved for a while, but last week I saw how thin he was getting and decided that the insulin had to happen now, or never (if you get my drift). So I entered the vet's office yet again, full of angst and tears, and said that yes, I could probably TRY the insulin for a few months. If my quality of life was suffering, I would re-evaluate.

Well, dang it if that cat's blood sugar wasn't back in the normal range! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I think I did both. Though he IS skinny, it is probably due to the shift in diet, and he's losing the baby-fat that I had grown to love. I always called him "Big Boned," to spare his feelings when friends said he was overweight. Oy.

So the current plan is just to stop time altogether, prevent everyone from aging (kids included), and that will be that. We'll just live today over, again and again, Groundhog Day style. Let's, okay?

Flashbacks

When E asked me to go on the log flume at Michigan's Adventure last week, I had to pause for a moment to think about it. I was banking on a day without roller coasters...the kids are only 5 and 3 after all. Surely they're not tall enough to ride anything that would scare me, right? Absolutely wrong. With an adult, a kid her height could ride several of the larger rides, said flume included.

I know that the log flume is technically not a roller coaster, with only the one hill and all, but it's a big hill. It is. It's a lose-your-belly kind of hill, which I know because I accompanied E for three trips up the clickity-clacks, around the (leaky) river, and down the drop. Eek. "Why did you scream the whole way down, Mom?" Oh, did I? Sorry. I'll try to be quieter next time.

When she asked Mike to bring her on the smallest of the adult coasters, I was a bit nervous, thinking back to the time I took poor little Stephanie on her first coaster at Great Adventure. I was fooled by the fact that it looked like an innocent little train ride with a few hills...it actually turned out to be a moderately rough ride, and was, um, a bit much for her. If I remember correctly, it ended with crying and screaming about love and trust and never again.

Thankfully, E's experience was much more on the delightful side, and the only crying came when it was time to go home. Mike, ever the good Daddy, rode with her no less than six times, though I think he would have preferred to watch the action from the sidelines with a cold beverage. It was a great day trip for us, though I'm looking forward to the time when we can send her off with a school or church group to satisfy her enthusiasm for the biggest, fastest amusement park rides. 'Cause I'm NOT going on that bungie thing, or the coaster where your feet are dangling out the bottom. I'm just not.