And so Monday dragged on with Tara the cat refusing to eat or drink more than a few sips of water despite the £300 invested the prior day in seeking emergency treatment from the vet. By the evening we took matters into our own hands. The Mrs held poor Tara tight and I forced her mouth open and with a syringe (no needle) forced her (Tara not the Mrs) to drink some cat milk. She seemed to perk up a bit and was again allowed to sleep with us.
I was keen to slumber after a hard day in the private sector but the Mrs is now on her prolonged public sector funded summer vacation and so was keen to read a book on how capitalism causes global poverty or some such nonsense and so kept the light on. And that attracted a moth.
Oakley, our morbidly obese three legged cat, followed the little moth closely but was too lazy to do anything about it. But all of a sudden Tara was once again her old self, leaping around the room in active pursuit. Eventually, one big leap in the air saw the moth snared and then devoured. Eating again. Perhaps it was back to normal?
Sadly no. Tuesday saw another day of no eating or minimal drinking and thus Tara was booked in for a scan this morning to see if, as feared, she had a growth in her stomach. The Mrs was ordered to starve Tara from 9 PM. At 8 PM it was back to old Tara demanding food aggressively and she ate like a horse once more, until the deadline at which point the food was removed and both Tara and Oakley complained bitterly that this was a breach of their basic human rights.
So today came the scan (£254) and it appears that there may be some small growths in her stomach but the real issue is an inflamed pancreas. And so now she is spending a night in hospital on a drip to be rehydrated (£189) and the given a cocktail of drugs (£50) to treat the inflammation. The Mrs has discovered visiting hours and will be popping along shortly and tomorrow I got to pick Tara (and a bill for almost £500) up.
Oakley is showing no sympathy. He has had a ball. Each time we have presented food to Tara she has rejected it. Lucky Oakley then goes and enjoys yet another meal. He wants this farce to carry on in perpetuity. I’m not sure that my bank balance can take it much longer.
But at least the ordeal may be over and Tara should be home by tomorrow night.