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?