26 degrees, windy, fine snow
17 inches of snow on the ground
Dinky is spending the next two nights at the veterinary hospital.
I took her in to see the doctor this morning to get a blood check on her kidney values. They had been dropping ever since she was diagnosed. But we didn't check them in November and she's been acting a little quiet the past two weeks, so I thought a re-check wouldn't be out of line.
Her values were all through-the-roof elevated.
The vet wants to keep her a couple of days to try and "flush her out" with IV fluids, then she'll come home for us to treat with more sub-Q fluids. She is still bright and active but I know this means her disease is moving to a new phase--a phase closer to the final one.
I know what you may be thinking, She has so many--what's the big heart-ache over one?
The sad truth is that the cats that we are the most likely to lose are those who have been with us the longest.
Dinky's been with us almost twelve years now--the dirty, starving, half-grown cat who was brought to the Animal Shelter in deep winter. She and her brother, Sparky.
Sparky died just before Christmas in 1998 and I have clung to the sweetest of his memory as I held on to Dinky.
She has been a wonderful cat, a great companion, and I am trying hard to muster gratitude for her presence in my life out of the heaviness that is in my heart.