arkessian: (chino)
Chino is now fully restored to his normal ways... with all the associated drawbacks. (Cue wailing and gnashing of teeth by the lodger as the cat resets the screen resolution on his laptop with one delicate application of his backside.)
arkessian: (chino)
The current theory (based on an expensive battery of blood tests) is that Chino is fighting off an infection. He has had a long-acting  antibiotic jab, and is off the poppy juice and back on his normal arthritis meds. Until this morning, he was still stubbornly refusing to eat but he sneaked into the kitchen overnight to clean the saucer of gooshy fudz that I'd left for him, and has demanded to be fed twice more, even condescending to eat some of his normal pellets. So the vet and I have had a guardedly optimistic conversation today and agreed that he doesn't need to be taken in to be put on a drip...
arkessian: (chino)
Spacy cat is still spaced out on his "poppy juice". He has stopped vomiting, but has also unfortunately stopped eating. Yummy kind-to-digestive systems expensive gooshy fudz? He spits on it... or rather, sucks the gravy off and spits the rest of it out. His usual pellets don't tempt him either. He will perk up for a smear of yoghurt and demand Moar Naow, but he can't live on yoghurt, so back to the vet he goes tomorrow lunchtime if he hasn't eaten properly before then.
arkessian: (chino)
Chino — the furry brick that manifests when thwarted as a thug — has not been himself this last couple of days: lethargic and (more worryingly) unable to keep food down. As he is on long-term medication for arthritis which can affect his stomach, kidney and liver I judged it prudent to haul him to the vet this morning... The verdict: borderline worrying, but not worrying enough to take bloods yet. First we would try ceasing his arthitis meds for another day or two, and substituting an opioid (first by injection, later by mouth) and replacing his usual strictly-metered diet pellets (I did say furry brick) with some yummy kind-to-digestive systems expensive moist stuff.

Chino would just like to say: Peace and Love, man... Bring on the good stuff; just ignore the fact that I can't walk straight and need to lean against the walls. And the fact that my eyes are so wide I don't think I'll ever close them again.

We shall see what the morrow brings... But a stoned fourteen-year old cat is an amusing thing.
arkessian: (chino)
Why is it, I wonder, that during the week, Chino is perfectly happpy to wait until 7am to be fed. But on Saturday and Sunday his internal alarm invariably goes off at 4am...