She was better, then she wasn't, then she was again, but then she totally wasn't. We took her back to the vet yesterday where she spent the night hooked up to an IV, hating us and you and the vet and the fishies in the sea. The vet is concerned that it might be liver cancer. On that happy note, we visited her this morning and she was thrilled as hell to see us. She ate three bowls of food for us and purred and snoodled with her little arm attached to an IV bag and a sticker on the door of her little kitty condo that read: "Bites!". The vet was impressed. We were ecstatic. So now, we're waiting a little while longer before we bring her home because we want to make sure her food stays down. As far as the "C" word... it can go eat a dick, cause if my cat's eating and not showing signs of pain or distress and as long as she's not shitting up a storm, well, she's not going any damn where.
Ya'll are all welcome to come visit me in the nervous hospital when the time comes. Maybe they'll let us make macaroni art together.