Our Fur Baby's in Trouble

 

     I don't know what it is, if it's mere coincidence or if there's something to it. But since the pandemic began in earnest nearly two years ago, it was virtually impossible to log onto Facebook without seeing at least one of friends mourning a lost pet. Pet deaths seemed to ramp up when we began sheltering in place.

     I'd often express the appropriate tokens of condolences, always feeling helpless that I'm powerless to mitigate their grief. Through it all, I confess I was also quietly grateful that my cat, Popeye, remained in ruddy good health.

    All that dramatically and abruptly changed on New Years when he suddenly stopped drinking and eating. He's already dramatically lost weight (it's amazing how quickly a cat can do that) and he's little more than skin and bones. His behavior has completely altered and he's a shadow of his usually sassy personality that was fully in evidence in the lead photo, my favorite one out of all the dozens I've taken of him over the last 12 1/2 years.

     Since I'm not a vet, I don't know what the problem is. But he's often camped out by his food and water bowls as if he wants to eat and drink but something is holding him back. Now I'm feeling an especially pernicious type of helplessness.

     The problem is, I can't afford to take him to the local vet before it's too late. Christmas put us behind the 8 ball and we haven't even paid our rent for January. My suspicion is that he has either an intestinal or urinary tract blockage and if he doesn't start urinating again soon, his kidneys will fail. On the offchance this can be corrected by surgery, I want to give him every chance for survival.

     Those of you who have stuck with me over the last 13 years may remember the post I'd written the night or the night after I literally picked him up off my street and brought him home. I'd only been living here for nine or ten weeks and desperately needed someone or something to care for and Popeye presented himself to me as to say, "Here I am."

     While sometimes he's been a pain, peeing where he shouldn't, being finicky when given pate cat food and jumping on a chair seconds after we'd momentarily left it, Mrs. JP and I are very partial to keeping him around for as long as possible. I'm not saying anyone owes me anything but I still owe it to Popeye to get the little guy checked out before it's too late. And if any of you own a pet such as a cat or dog, you know trips to the vet ain't cheap. We'll need hundreds if not over a thousand dollars to do what needs to be done for him.

     This is beyond devastating for us. He's our fur baby and he's given us unconditional love for 12 1/2 years. It's time we gave it back to him in his direst hour of need.