This never gets easier
I just read a post from a veterinarian.
She said someone brought in a cat who “wasn’t acting like herself.”
The tests came out fine. But the owner was still concerned. And the vet did some more work.
Turns out the kitty had arthritis. So they treated it and kitty returned to sleeping on the hoomin’s bed.
Man did that cheese me off.
Cokie was bright eyed and sweet and loved to eat. No one would think she was suffering.
But she practically lived under my bed in her final year. Only came out for food, or if I sat on my bed.
My baby didn’t have any meat on her little bones. Belly has really strong thighs and Cokie had no muscle whatsoever there.
So, really, none of the four vets we saw was worth a good god damn.
No one could have loved a cat more than I loved Cocoa.
No one would have spent more money or tried harder to save her kiddo.
I guess I should be glad no one tried to sucker me out of more money.
I’d have gladly parted with it, for my babiest girl to have had better days.