Cammie continues slowly to improve. She is not active right now. One of the lingering effects of Cerenia is lethargy, though it’s difficult to determine if her lying about all day is due to her medicine or her species. In any case, she doesn’t have much reason to go anywhere, as she has eaten too little to make many litter-box trips, and I am bringing her food as a waiter does a restaurant’s favoured customer.
The princess has visited the litter-box, and she continues to eat. She has consumed a few kernels of hard-food, but prefers the soft right now. This won’t add much to her weight, but it is keeping her going. She lets me know when she wants a meal. (It’s funny how we can reach a point in our acquaintance when we can judge what our pets want simply by their stance or how they raise their heads.) I provide her with a portion of food every couple of hours; she is eating all that I give her, and it is staying down. As the portions I dole out are about the same size as she receives for dinner, and she is eating one of these every few hours, Cammie is, in fact, eating more than usual.
I have noticed also that she is being a bit less offensive in her attitudes to the proximity of other cats. This actually began with the cleaning of the cat-trees, which appeared to generate in Cammie a self-imposed search for different quarters. I took these photographs over the last little while, some at night (which accounts for the flash.) The picture of her and Parker is most interesting: I heard hissing and growling, and, knowing that Parker was loose, I hurried to the sitting room. Unless there is a physical debate occurring, I don’t separate the cats, but talk to them, pet them and try to calm them. After doing so, Cammie seemed to acquiesce in the sturdy-boy’s presence.
What with clean cat-trees, sickness and a foster-cat, these are interesting times in the cosy apartment.