Mine, that is.
Yesterday he would Not. Eat. Not a single bite of his wet food mixed with kibble that up to then he gobbled up and asked for more. At an estimated 9-1/2 weeks it was time to wean him and I had been doling out the powdered milk in smaller and smaller doses until it was all gone, so there was no milk to go with his solid food yesterday morning.
It was because of the milk, I thought. He won’t eat without having his milk first. At 11 a.m. I tried again. Nope. Anxious by now, I watched him closely. He was busy playing with his catnip toys, didn’t appear sick. At 5 p.m. I tried him with a fresh serving of wet food and kibble. He didn’t even go near it. This was worth a call to the vet. I spoke to Dineen there, who suggested I mix milk with his other food. She said the little “stinker” was forcing my hand. I got in the car and drove down the hill to Pet Express and bought some more powdered milk.
Did he leap at it and declare our contretemps over? He took a few laps and went somewhere else. Beside myself by now, I called the vet’s office again. Dineen said to bring him in if he still wouldn’t eat in the morning, and not to worry, that he would be all right. But I won’t be, I told her.
This morning at our usual breakfast hour of 5:15 (there is no retirement and sleep-ins when one has cats, especially Loaner who jumps up on me and pats my face over and over until I surrender) I served Bijou–omitting the milk just to see if that was the issue about eating–a smaller portion of wet food and kibble. Without hesitation, the little monster ate half of it then went off to play. It was as if he had handed me a tank of oxygen; I had not realized I had stopped breathing for the past 24 hours.
An hour later, after my own breakfast, he ate the rest of his without quibble (no kibble quibble. Sorry!). As usual, he went downstairs with me for litter box duty and then outside to the backyard. He climbs this little shrub and looks exactly like a miniature bear climbing a miniature tree.
I have no idea why he wouldn’t eat for an entire day the day before. It wasn’t because of the milk, and he was plenty energetic so it wasn’t because he didn’t feel well.
We are seeing the vet Tuesday for a progress checkup on his ringworm. All his other ailments are cured. I don’t know who to see about my own rash, which I have self-diagnosed as hives (urticaria), due to stress and San Gennaro knows what else. It isn’t ringworm, according to pictures on the Internet, and doesn’t behave like it, and Loaner isn’t showing signs of it. Maybe, just maybe, our lives will get back to normal, whatever that means, by Thanksgiving.