Brazil in the Long Run

Brazil is under the weather this week. He ate only half as much as usual Tuesday evening, and nothing at all for breakfast Wednesday morning. His uninterest in food has continued until now. He has nibbled enough to keep his internal organs working but this is not like him. On top of this, he has been throwing up; a couple of times a day, and last night’s was quite pink.

The problem could be a number of things, but the simplest and easiest to remedy is a hairball, so I am treating this first. ‘Easiest’ is, of course, a relative term.

I have been dreading the day I would have to medicate Shimmer. It would come sooner or later, if he was to stay with me any great length of time. It came sooner. I acquired some hairball remedy -  you know, the kind that tastes great and that cats love. Whether or not it tastes great, I can’t determine, but Brazil didn’t want to ingest any of his own volition.

Catching Brazil was not difficult; he likes being petted and stroked and that’s what he thought I was going to do. I was holding him firmly, but when I put the syringe to his mouth, he flew from my grasp. Then, like the times I had to put him in a carrier, it was a matter of cornering him. I closed as many doors as possible and eventually caught him in the bathroom.

Brazil’s reaction to being caught for some distasteful procedure is intriguing. He races about to avoid me but, when he has nowhere to go, he gives up. I was able to hold him and gently push the syringe between his gritted teeth and give him a dose of the hairball treatment. He could have clawed my skin from my bones, as he could have when I had to insert him into a carrier, but he did nothing of the sort.

Afterward, he hid under the bed for an hour. Though he and I are reconciled again, I will have to do this a second time tomorrow, and possibly on a third day. If there is no improvement by then, a hospital visit may be necessary. I hope, however, that his ailment proves as cooperative as Brazil has – in the long run – himself.