I feel a bit guilty that while I was aflutter about Punkin's upset stomach, imaging the very worst, I was comforting myself with the idea that even if the worst *did* happen and I lost Punky, there would be Dinky to help me through my grief and make the bed a tad less empty at night. Now I have to turn that thought on its head. Dinky is such a constant (one could say relentless) companion during my sleeping hours, her loss would leave a gapping absence. I try to guard my cats against every threat but there are some I am defenseless against.
I know, I know--don't borrow trouble. Invariably, things do not happen as we anticipate. We lost both BooBoo and SunSpot last summer. I had resigned myself to losing Boo back in 2002 when she showed signs of advanced kidney disease. Inexplicably, she rebounded (we think now she just had a kidney infection) and lived on for three more years. Sunspot, looking great for her age, dropped dead from a stroke with little warning. We thought Lucy Sue's surgery was successful in removing all traces of malignancy, but six months later, it returned, while her sister Frieda had a rapid-growing tumor removed from her tail four years ago with no sign of reoccurrence or metastasis.
So it is impossible to say with any certainty what course Dink's health may take and there is nothing to be gain by beating myself up because I wasn't worrying about Dinky getting kidney disease while I was worrying over Punkin's digestive problems. If nothing else, Dinky's problem has been very gradual in its onset and a few days delay in detection makes no difference in the course of the disease.
As Rosanne Rosannadanna would say, "It's always something..."
I finally got around to doing some work on the cats' webpage--uploading recent photos and starting pages for Twitch, Bart and MeToo. I am sad that I can only find one (blurry) photo for Sally to put on her memorial page. I will go through last year's photos again but suspect that the one photo I have is the only one to mark Sally's passage on this earth.