That whole story of cats having nine lives is true. My oldest kitty Mona recently gave us the impression she was on her way out. We had taken her to the vet because of excessive peeing and water drinking, and took her back home with drugs. Shortly thereafter she was not moving around much, eating or drinking water and we were sure she was dying. So I went out and got her some Breyers, her favorite brand of ice cream and gave her some each day. I alerted my loved ones that she wasn't doing well and probably wouldn't be with us for long. I carried her around in a basket with me, gave her milk and ice cream, carried her to the potty a couple times a day.... she's my BFF, of course I'll do these things. She purred and loved me up and napped a lot. Seemed happy and sleepy.
Then, Sunday morning, Bryan and I heard meowing at the top of the basement stairs. We both sat up in bed and looked at eachother inquisitively. I got up, and low and behold, there was Mona, at the top of the stairs.
Hungry and thirsty.
She had gotten up in the night, taken herself to the potty and then decided she was ready to eat. She walked up the stairs on her own and asked for what she wanted. Since then, she's been eating morning and night, drinking water, walking around.
So there Mr. Reaper! I'm sure that her time is shorter than it was before, but for now, we are all living. And next weekend, we will all make a pile in front of a fire in the new fireplace together. Good thing everyone gets along... mostly.
The other kids: Jack, Scout and Emmie
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