Jordan's back at the vet. Thought it would be cute to lose his appetite over the weekend and stop drinking water altogether. The little creep's not even 12 yet, where does he get off thinking he can try renal failure on for size at his age? I ache with not knowing how to help him. We tried to force-feed him water on Sunday, but that was pretty much akin to giving a cat a bath—a wet, futile process. I want to shove a hose down his throat. Sorry, that's the fear talking.
Jordan's my first pet. We had zero pets growing up...the closest we came to having a pet was a stray cat that we found on Above All, all grey, pretty gentle, named him Shadow. We fed him tuna and Friskies, and Dad took to him a little, so he stuck around for about 3 weeks. But we knew it was too good to last, and ended up driving him to the New Milford Humane Society, where I pray he was adopted rather than gassed. Dad grew up with a little dog as a pet, and Mom grew up in a house with WAY too many animals, half of them strays, so neither of them had the energy to try pets themselves. So when my manager in Fort Myers said she was hoping to give away one of her cats when they moved to the next theater, I jumped at the chance. Jordan's a part-Siamese shorthair with white legs and tummy, dark brown on his back, and coffee ice cream in splotches around his shoulders. His eyes are crystal blue, and he's just so gentle and aloof. We finally got a digicam; when it comes in the mail, I'll add a pic, assuming he decides to tough it out and stick around. Man, I wish I didn't have to work today; I'd rather be cleaning the apartment to keep myself busy than editing frigging websites.
Catching up on bills is delicious! The power went out yesterday afternoon thanks to the gusty winds we've had here, and the first thing I thought was, this isn't our fault, and a slow smile spread over my face. Such relief. To have a payday coming up with nothing to worry about except that we still haven't figured out the home phone/Internet sitch. Of course, my furry friend mentioned above will probably suck nicely into that surplus with this latest vet's visit, but all you can do is roll with it. He's our furry son; we'll do what it takes.