The Boe kitty and I are awaiting the visiting vet.
It’s been two years, pretty much, since I first noticed the weird bump on his jaw, and I guess he’s made a good run of it. Last year when Sair went off to school, I thought she was saying good-bye, but since then he’s eaten moths, and stared down kittens for his treats, and pretty much figured out about being mom’s favorite.
Last night he purred when I patted him, and then went upstairs to hang out with Tom for a while for more pattings. (Nothing like someone trying to work to attract a cat.)
This afternoon he walked into the kitchen to use his box, and when he stepped down, his rear end just stopped working.
Dang the boy, he’s already working on figuring out how to just drag himself around. He’s perplexed by the need, though, and discussing it with me.
The hardware on this cat utterly sucks, but he is so damned awesome. Best boy ever.
If it were only this thing with the legs, I would be figuring out how to fit him with wheels, but his entire jaw is pretty much dysfunctional now, and he’s wasted away to almost no cat at all. I don’t think he’s having much fun.