Last week - feels like ages ago now - Harley went off her food, and barfed herself to an empty stomach. She spent a very subdued day on her favourite chair; no playing, no loves, no trots outside, no hopeful visits to the kitchen following us and, most distressing to Robert, no good conversation.
Robert duly took her to the V-E-T, which is a 15 min walk with a cat carrier. DO NOT WANT, said Harley!
Our lovely plain-spoken Saffa vet prodded and pulled and poked, hummed and hawed, did his best Gallic shrug, and said, yes, she has a non-specific illness. I can give her something to treat symptoms...or you can drop £300 on tests.
Much of veterinary medicine must be like this, when the patients are so uncommunicative about their ailments.
We went with symptom relief.
A dose of anti-nausea stuff, a shot of B vitamins to help appetite, an antibiotic, and a muscle relaxant(?), possibly to help bowels, not sure.
£77 for a non-specific illness. Ooooof.
After spending the rest of the afternoon sulking under the sofa (only venturing out with her tail down - had enough of that exam, thank you very much) Harley surfaced for a light meal of fish and bulgar wheat prepared by her personal chef, and then a long evening of serious lovin'.
She stretched out the length of my legs and purred and purred and purred and PURRED, all evening. Whatever that relaxant stuff was, it was good s***.
Madam got a one-night reprieve from the bedroom ban, on account of her condition.
From then, she has gradually regained her bounce: returning to the typical tail-up position, regaining her appetite, supported with custom meals, and finally her playfulness and sociable chatter.
So now I'm wondering: does anyone use pet insurance? I keep seeing flyers in the grocery stores.
We had a serious hard-sell call us at home, from a company that must buy mailing addresses from the pet microchip people, but fortunately Robert is immune to most telesales technique, having been on both sides of the phone.
Any suggestions?
Robert duly took her to the V-E-T, which is a 15 min walk with a cat carrier. DO NOT WANT, said Harley!
Our lovely plain-spoken Saffa vet prodded and pulled and poked, hummed and hawed, did his best Gallic shrug, and said, yes, she has a non-specific illness. I can give her something to treat symptoms...or you can drop £300 on tests.
Much of veterinary medicine must be like this, when the patients are so uncommunicative about their ailments.
We went with symptom relief.
A dose of anti-nausea stuff, a shot of B vitamins to help appetite, an antibiotic, and a muscle relaxant(?), possibly to help bowels, not sure.
£77 for a non-specific illness. Ooooof.
After spending the rest of the afternoon sulking under the sofa (only venturing out with her tail down - had enough of that exam, thank you very much) Harley surfaced for a light meal of fish and bulgar wheat prepared by her personal chef, and then a long evening of serious lovin'.
She stretched out the length of my legs and purred and purred and purred and PURRED, all evening. Whatever that relaxant stuff was, it was good s***.
Madam got a one-night reprieve from the bedroom ban, on account of her condition.
From then, she has gradually regained her bounce: returning to the typical tail-up position, regaining her appetite, supported with custom meals, and finally her playfulness and sociable chatter.
So now I'm wondering: does anyone use pet insurance? I keep seeing flyers in the grocery stores.
We had a serious hard-sell call us at home, from a company that must buy mailing addresses from the pet microchip people, but fortunately Robert is immune to most telesales technique, having been on both sides of the phone.
Any suggestions?
Wouldn't be without it
Date: 2010-01-27 07:31 am (UTC)