Kiddo’s two-year-old cat Jojo (otherwise known as Joey) has been diagnosed with a condition of the colon which they said is remarkably far along, considering his young age. He had to stay overnight at the vet’s office. They’ll be picking him up later. I’m not sure how late they would be able to possibly get him today, or if by now, he’ll be there until tomorrow?
He needed an IV, a catheter, and some enemas. I guess the poor little lad, with his extreme fear of strangers even when at home and maintenance was fixing something or other, was so terrified, he injured some of the staff. They had to sedate him more heavily than they would have liked, just to administer the treatment.
They were able to visit him at the vet’s, just to check on him. She said he seemed dopey but definitely recognized them. So maybe that helped calm him somewhat.
They’re going to see what all will be suggested for food and medication to continue to treat the issue, but they’re not going to put him through another round of having his system flushed out at the vet’s. So, however well he responds to the treatment this time, that will determine how much longer he has.
The illness itself isn’t life-threatening, necessarily, if treated correctly, but can require a lot of vet visits. And it seems the experience was extremely traumatic for him. Neither she, her boyfriend, nor his brother, all of whom take care of the cat at their shared apartment, want to see him suffer unnecessarily.
I wish I could help her somehow. I offered what support I could over the phone, and sent a little money, to cover restaurant food for a few nights, since she said they were probably ordering pizza tonight. She’s in no fit state to make dinner. I don’t blame her.
I got the call while I was at a local Hallmark, picking up gifts for my dad, for Father’s Day, and his birthday. But I’ll talk about that, somewhere else. This post is just for Jojo, and my daughter.
I only met their cat briefly, but he seemed to like me? Maybe because I vibed like a cat person, or smelled like kitties, still. But I have always loved seeing all the photos she sends. We’ve been calling him my grandson.
It’s so hard to witness your child going through pain, and feeling helpless to do very much about it. But I know this is hard for her, too. I wish them all the best trying to keep him healthy for as long as possible, once he gets home. Her boyfriend’s mom is giving them a cat tree, so he’ll have a new “kitty jungle gym,” as she put it, once they pick that up.
And she’d recently gotten him a Pride-themed cat bed.
I asked her to send lots and lots of pics once he’s settled in at home again. She promised she would, and added that she would probably be taking a lot more photos of him, from now on. Treasuring every day, like it’s the last.
If you can spare a thought for them all, I’d appreciate it.
All the Bright and Sparkly Things 
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