She hasn't been eating well, the last few weeks especially. She never has eaten a lot, despite being a distinctly tubby cat. A few weeks ago, I switched her to canned cat food, hoping that would perk her appetite. It seemed to work, for a little while. But then she was eating less and less. Barely half a can a day. This morning, she wouldn't eat a bite.
Lut took her to the vet. He said, "Well, she's getting old." That's what he said about Branl, before she died.
He gave Ash an injection that was supposed to stimulate her appetite, and said if she still wasn't eating normally by Friday to bring her back and he'd do blood work. There didn't seem to be anything else wrong with her. No bad teeth or anything. Just old.
I don't know how old Ash is. I've had her for seven years, but she was a grown cat when I got her. I always thought she'd been young then. But maybe she wasn't.
When Lut got her home, he gave her some cat milk, her favorite treat. She lapped at a little of it, but didn't even finish the saucer.
My parents came over, and she was out and about to greet them, sitting in each lap in turn. She always has loved attention. But before we left for dinner, she retreated to the bedroom to sleep. She was still there when I got home. Usually she'll come and hop in my lap for attention, but she hid under the bed for a while instead. Then lay on top of it and napped some more. I picked her up and carried her into the office to lay her in my lap.
She's sleeping now, half under the covers, against me. When she wakes up and I pet her, she doesn't purr. Just seems tired. Maybe she just is tired. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe I'm just paranoid.
Maybe she's dying.
I don't want to lose her, too.