I know a lot people don't understand the angst and pain I feel when one of my cats goes missing or becomes ill. "They're not people, they're just animals!," my mother will say sarcastically when I go into tizzy. But I can't help it. These cats are the babies I never had. So when my eldest cat fell ill a few days ago, spent the night at the vet only to come back home still ill, it's easier for me just to keep to myself about how upset I feel right now. That's when I start to feel like one of those eccentric cat ladies that every one finds so pathetic.
Although his fevery subsided and there is no vomitting Mango is not eating and shrinking by the day. He's listless. The vet said if he doesn't eat by tomorrow morning he has to go back into the hospital for the weekend. This is how it all started with my beloved Macavity. He stopped eating. They found a cancerous tumor in his stomach. And stupidly I chose to keep him alive by feeding him through a tube in neck for four months while he wasted away. This is my worst fear.
Dear God, please help Mango get better.