Success! I pureed the cat food…

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You would not believe that she is 19!

My most notable success of the last seven days has been… pureeing cat food. I kid you not.

My nineteen-year old cat decided that last week would be the week to cause me major stress and so she stopped eating. At all. After three days of buying every type of cat food known to man – and even cooking from fresh – I took her to the vets only to be told that her days are numbered which is something that I have known for a while. Her organs are slowly failing yet she is a fighter and is still bright and perky.

Knowing that she didn’t have long we decided to make her last days here as comfortable as possible. After watching her drinking well but still being unable to eat, I hit upon the idea of pureeing her food – much like you do for babies or the elderly. I figured if she could drink cat milk, then maybe she could drink her food.

I would like to say it’s a pretty sight, but it’s not. Watching a pouch of Whiskas whizz round a blender is not for the faint hearted, however, it worked. Slowly and surely she began to lap at the pureed food and yesterday saw her pretty much back to her old self. I appreciate that we are only buying her time but I feel proud that I have been able to give her that time and, as she is presently in no pain or discomfort and still enjoys rolling around in the sun, then I see no reason to end her life right now.

It’s a really tough decision and it’s only when you’re faced with losing them that you realise how big a part of your life they are – but she’s not ready to go yet. I’ll know when she is.

In the meantime, pureed cat food it is.

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A little shove needed…

imageKevin, the hamster, has a new friend. The lovely Bridget has come to stay for her holidays. Given that this is the closest he has ever been to a female of the species, I expected much excitement and activity on his part. Even though his eyesight is not the best, I knew that he would be able to smell his new pal and I couldn’t wait for them to spend some valuable time together.

And, a few days into Bridget’s stay, I can happily report…

Nothing.

Complete disinterest in both camps.

Bridget: 'Well, if you can't be bothered...'

Bridget: ‘Well, if you can’t be bothered…’

Kevin: 'Works both ways, love...'

Kevin: ‘Works both ways, love…’

I am thinking that maybe his Dad never got around to giving him ‘the’ talk.

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