. . . and out

If ever diarrhea could be considered a welcome sight, Warren has made me very happy today.

My poor kitty started the day off right, with another visit to the vet when his feeding tube started acting less like a tube and more like 494 during rush hour: inexcusably blocked. I asked the vet to remove the tube rather than reinsert it again, as Warren had shown some interest in regular food earlier. When we got home, he loved me fiercely: rubbing cheeks, bumping heads, making biscuits, and purring so hard his little body shook. I think he was glad to be rid of that tube.

Since he ate a little but not a lot, I squeezed some more liquid diet into his mouth via syringe. About half an hour later, one of the vet's predictions came true: that the liquid diet would produce feculence that made hog farm waste seem tame. Digestive tract motility: check. Thank goodness for feline tidiness; my cleanup radius was minimal.

I let Warren out of the office this afternoon, and he's resting on his favorite chair up in the warm warm bedroom. I'm going to try to leave him alone until it's time for his next meds. All I want is for him to be comfortable. And maybe just a little more continent.