Bacon Meets Its Match - The Price Saga

Price and the Sheep (Leo) in the sunshine by the stove.

Price had been in such pain, so miserable, so uncoaxable with his food.  His burns looked like bacon.

Last night, he was standing by the kindling pile, face-marking. Dan later saw him  sink his claws into the cat-tree and dig at it, straining his whole body backwards on his hind legs, in a way that looked painful, but that he obviously wasn't bothered by.

This morning, suddenly -- he got up and followed me around until I fed him.  I made him get out of the way during the wood-loading -- so he cornered Jim (the new/low cat) and smacked him.  Later, when Jim was complaining because now he is House Cat and doesn't get let outside to beat up the neighbors any more, he stopped and hissed at Price.  Price sat down and gave him, his "Yes?  Do you need another one?" look.

Maybe... I don't want to jinx anything, but thank all of you for the Love-Voodoo for Price.

Price Up And At 'Em

Price gobbling up canned catfood and chicken fat.  Oh, how thin!

Now we've eaten, time for Nips!

The boy gets fed every hour on the hour, with anything high calorie, although he wants the canned food with all the added vitamins, minerals, and Taurine.  Fish, chicken, milk, mayonnaise, whatever he'll eat - doesn't matter.  He doesn't get any of the shellfish, in this case mussels, because healthy humans handle those better than sick kitties.

Twice a day, Dan puts on heavy leather gloves, and I wash his belly down with a solution of nettles, dill and catnip, then apply antibiotic ointment.  He gets antibiotics for his gut resection three times a day.

We should all hope we get treated like this when we're sick.

Looking up Chinese herbs for helping with the other tiny tumors that were found in the ultrasound.  Price had a low-level facial tumor removed about 3 years ago.  He was found in a parking lot in 1998, as a half-grown boy.  And we're living in Clallam Bay -- an industrial forestry area.  We might as well be living with pulp mills.

Tough Titty Said The Kitty

Price with his halogen lamp, Steve.

ARGGHH!

Why the Robert Newton imitation?  Because Mr. Price (General Sterling Price) was just doing fine with his bowel resection surgery.

Why the horrible-looking belly discoloration?  That he whined so miserably about when I tried to look at it? ("Oh no!  His gut has burst!  He's rotting!")

He fell asleep on the low setting on the heating pad.

Yep, they really can burn us like we've always been warned.  So after another 60-mile round trip, and a mindset that had me considering Cutting and Dan throwing up waiting for the news, we found out he's just fine, just needing some ointment and aloe or honey or dill washes to clean him up.

Hope this really jump-starts his immune system, like the Southerners claim of a springtime sunburn does in the winter bugs.  Yeah, that's what it's good for.  All three of our little lamps warm up nicely at low wattage, so he's buddying up to them, now.

And thanks to all of you for the power wishes and care; couldn't have done it without you.