A few days ago I noticed that Lilah wasn’t eating very much. She’s never been particularly food-motivated, and it’s not uncommon for her to ignore her kibble all day and then take a big chunk out of the kibble overnight or whatever. But she just hasn’t been eating much at all the past two days. And she threw up a little yesterday, which is not unusual for cats, but concerning on top of no appetite.
No idea what’s up. Managed to get a vet appointment today – thank goodness for mobile vets – and they’ve given her an exam and taken blood for bloodwork.
No theories right now as to why she’s not eating. Just waiting on blood tests and wondering if I’ll need to get her an ultrasound or something.
Might be serious, might be nothing at all. Whatever it is (or isn’t) right now I’m stressed AF about my buddy.
This is one of the worst parts of having pets. Not the occasional messes or 3 a.m. wake-ups. Not the litter boxes. Just knowing they’re unwell but they can’t tell you what’s wrong. Not knowing whether it’s serious or trivial or how to help.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed for trivial and she’ll be back to normal tomorrow or very soon. If you have a fuzzy buddy, give them scritches and hugs for me. That’s the important stuff.
Update: It turned out that Lilah had cancer, and it progressed quickly. The reason she wasn’t eating was because tumors were pressing on her stomach and such, and she didn’t feel hungry because of that. We tried appetite stimulants and steroids, which helped for a few weeks. Eventually, though, she started to seem to have some trouble getting comfortable and having shallow/rapid breathing.
We said goodbye to Lilah in late March 2023. I didn’t update this or post about it at the time simply because I couldn’t find the words. More than a year later, I really still can’t.
Lilah was my first pet as an adult, and I thought I’d have her much longer. We had a bond that meant the world to me, and I hate the fact that there was nothing I could do when she got sick other than to let her go with dignity. I am privileged to have been her person and I cherish the time we did have.
She was born in Indiana, made the trek to St. Louis, Missouri to live with me, and then crossed the country when I moved to North Carolina. I got to watch her grow from a skinny little kitten to a plump puss with cattitude to spare. Lilah Zuul McScratcherson was the fanciest cat you’d ever meet, with a murderous streak for anyone who annoyed her, which happened to be almost anyone who got in her personal space that wasn’t me.
She was a legendary cat. She is sorely missed, and I will never forget her.