Whilst visiting the pharmaceutical plant, I received a message from home. Cincinnati had been rushed to the vet, and I needed to ring the practice to find out what was happening. Luckily, the vet was satisfied that he had had a good night and was recovering well. However, I would need to bring him in again on our return.
And so, a fortnight ago, I took Cincinnati back to the vet, with Katherine for company. There is no doubt that he is struggling, in that he is losing weight, his hind legs are weakened by muscle loss, and he is generally slower. The vet concluded that he was suffering from a hyperactive thyroid and early stage renal disease, and prescribed medication and a change of diet.
A fortnight later, not much has changed. He takes his medication every day, whether he likes it or not. The new cat food is not to his taste, even though it is low in phosphorus and fearfully expensive, so I treat him with expensive, nice-tasting cat food. Signs of recovery are, at this stage, few and far between, but he still enjoys a stroll around the garden, even if he wobbles a little from time to time.
Cinci has had a good run, and at sixteen years old, he has outlived average life expectancy for a house cat. In the meantime, we'll make him as comfortable as possible, keep him warm and safe, and give him as much attention as we can.
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