Cat: No Holiday For You!

Jamie has given us a terrible week starting with getting very, very sick on Monday afternoon, July 3rd. On Tuesday morning we took him to the vet (the expensive emergency vet because it was a holiday, natch) and he has been there ever since. By Saturday he was even worse and we were starting to talk about putting him down, but the vets worked a miracle and now it looks like we can bring him home tomorrow.

He's just a little guy but our home has been awfully empty without him. I got him in January of 1995 when he was four months old, and even though we moved in with Mike less than two years later and have been a family of three for almost a decade, Jamie still kind of thinks that he and I are the couple and Mike just lives with us. They get along great -- they've even started watching television together, which tickles me when I go into the living room and they're both engrossed in Star Wars -- but there's no doubt that Jamie is my cat.

He's a cuddlesome sort and can go on about asking for a lap, but he's still got quite a bit of devil in him. You have to be careful about walking past him, because he can wake from a sound sleep in an instant and whap you on the ankle. He's also opened a vein on me more than once: it starts with the whap, and then he evidently feels that while he's got me there he might as well feel that sweet human flesh between his teeth. His regular vet has labeled him "cage aggressive" for that behavior, which I've tried to explain to Jamie is a terrible blow to his reputation.

In November of 2003 he was diagnosed with diabetes. It was the first time I'd had to deal seriously with the question of his mortality, and it was quite a blow; I've known Jamie longer than I've known most people in my life, after all. We had to learn to give him shots twice a day, which was more traumatic for us than for him. He got very old in the summer of 2004, with neuropathy in his legs that made him stagger, and we were worried for awhile. Changing his insulin did wonders though, and he got young again, without too much trouble until just this past week.

"Acute gastroenteritis" they called it, and just when they brought it under control his diabetes kicked in from lack of food and he became ketoacidotic. I went to visit him and he didn't seem to care; he just sat and suffered with half closed eyes and laboring breath. But aggressive drug therapy and excellent supportive care managed to save him; he started eating on Monday and they've been weaning him off the drugs ever since. Now when I visit he sits in my lap and purrs, just like at home, and shoves his little head into my belly so he can smell me and not the disinfectant.

I'll be getting my bonus on Friday. It's a record bonus this year, and it will just about cover the vet bill (Jamie always helps me spend my bonus; last year it was food allergies). I think I'm going to spend some extra money some goodies for the vets, too. They gave me such a blessing by saving my friend for me; it's the least I can do.