I feel as if I haven't been to church in weeks. It's probably true. First I was sick;
now, Belle. She went to the vet two weeks ago and received an inconclusive diagnosis coupled with a long-term antibiotic. She's seemed so very much better; playing, eating, pooping, peeing, sitting with Squirrel, begging for treats, exploring the patio.
Now, this morning, she's hiding under a bed. That's what she does when she knows that she is headed for the vet. What she doesn't realize is that today is Sunday and Dr. T is, herself, probably in church.
I've been spreading a clean white sheet over my bed every night, checking for the signs of that smudge she leaves behind - the only visible symptom. Belle doesn't sleep with me; yet, about 5 0'clock in the mornings, when she begins to believe the sun is on the horizon, thud. Up she jumps! And this morning, there they were. The tell-tale signs that she is not 100% cured of who-knows-what-this-is.
I've spent a lot of time on the internet, in the last few hours, in between washing bedding in Clorox, scouring the bathrooms, and sanitizing the floors. We need to stay as clean as possible!
I read a lot of hooey on line...you know, internet Ragdoll Cat owner groups, question-the-vet-online sites, and other useless information. I did perk up as I began to find mention of all the psychological trauma symptoms that Belle exhibits. That, as you know, is another story; the one about why Belle lives with me in the first place.
We'll go back to the hospital tomorrow. As much as she dislikes it and as much as I hate to leave her there, she has begun to almost like her vet and the clinic staff! We need to find out exactly what is going on with Belle. It took me two trips to urgent care before I solved my problem, didn't it?
Meanwhile, we'll lay low today, concentrate on habitat hygiene, and worry as little as possible. Belle won't come out from what she believes is her secret hiding place until she's sure that I've forgotten all about going to the garage, backing out the car, finding the pet carrier, and calling "Here, kitty, kitty," while shaking a bag of treats to lure her in!
