|photo by Kara Hartz 2016|
I haven’t written about Bob in awhile. He is trucking along just fine. We adopted Bob in October of 1998, and at the time his doctor thought he was about a year old, which would give him a birthday in 1997. I think it is probably more likely he was a spring kitten, and closer to only 7 or 8 month old when we adopted him since he did grow a little after we got him. Still that would make him ‘only’ 18 years old instead of 19 right now. He’s an old dude – no getting around that.
His bathroom habits have deteriorated over the past year or so, and I am now manually helping him empty his bladder 1 to 2 times a day. I’d noticed him going from one litter box to another but not producing much, and seeming restless. At first he didn’t appreciate my help, but now he will go to my bathroom (I use the toilet when I empty him instead of a cat box) and meow at me. I take that as his request to be emptied.
A couple months ago I thought we might be near the end because he was eating very poorly and getting thinner and thinner. Then suddenly, he was eating great for about a week and just as my hopes were up, he stopped eating again. Belatedly, I put it together that the week he ate well, I had run out of his regular food and was feeding Fancy Feast, or whatever was on sale at the grocery store. As an experiment, I picked up some Fancy Feast, and sure enough, he are every bite. Since this revelation, he has been slowly putting weight back on and isn’t looking so frail.
There no stopping the Bob.