Matata relaxes on her Scratching Pad Tuesday morning.
It’s déjà vu all over again, and not in a good way.
Tuesday morning, the Missus and I knew right away that something wasn’t right with Matata. Normally, she’s walking around on our bed, shoving her butt in our faces and trying to roust us out of our comfortable Sleepy-Place. Then when one of us goes downstairs to fill the Kibble-Bowls, she will galumph down the stairs, making sure she doesn’t miss a single tasty pellet. But Tuesday, she took her sweet time getting to the kitchen...and for most of the morning, she simply sat under the chair outside our bedroom - a spot favored by her sister Hakuna.
Yesterday, she took up residence under Elder Daughter’s bed (another one of Hakuna’s hidey-holes). Food and water did not interest her, although as the evening wore on, SWMBO got her to eat a small bowl of food.
Normally, Matata will perch herself on my chest and try to nuzzle my face when I’m reading in bed. It makes it nigh-impossible to get through Paragraph One, but it’s the sort of endearing Kitty Behavior that makes Matata so special...like a dog in a catsuit. But last night, as I lay on my back, book in hand, Matata’s absence was palpable.
This morning I loaded her into her Sherpa carrier and took her to the vet. Matata does not put up the same kind of fight Hakuna does when I try to grab her, but today she was even more listless and acquiescent. My attempts at chivvying her out of her hidey-hole were met with only token resistance.
At the vet, the X-rays looked good...but the blood work told the real story. Blood urea nitrogen (BUN) and creatinine way up...liver enzymes elevated...all signs of incipient renal failure.
Déjà vu all over again...
...because it wasn’t all that long ago that Meryl Yourish was going through this same affair with her Tigger. And I do not want the story to play out the same way.
Matata will be staying with the vet for the next several days, as they pump her full of IV fluids and try to get her BUN and creatinine levels down. They’ve told me the prognosis is 50:50, which sucks. But at least there’s some hope for recovery, the chances of which plummet to zero without treatment.
I’m just hoping that Matata can fight the Good Fight and at least keep herself going long enough to celebrate her Bat Meowtzvah later this year. Your good wishes and prayers on her behalf are greatly appreciated.
Time to go and recite a Meow-Shebeirakh right now...and maybe a couple of Psalmons.