Parker’s situation remains both satisfactory and frustrating. My principal concern in it is to keep the orange-boy eating. He is doing so (that’s the satisfactory part) but bounces from one food to another (the frustrating bit). He will eat a certain brand or flavour at one meal, perhaps two, but not again. He has abandoned Fancy Feast, Weruva, Blue Buffalo and Merrick, and a recent casualty has been tripe, from PetKind. At the moment, he is consenting to consume Tiki Cat.
Puck’s appetite is of course a symptom, rather than a cause, and may be in a permanent reduction. He will be going to the veterinary hospital a week from Tuesday for the doctor to assess his condition, and probably conduct more tests, the results of which will be compared to the last set.
Otherwise, my sturdy-boy is showing changes of a less definite sort. He is not as active as he once was, and does not seem greatly to enjoy his walks. He sleeps more and has little interest in the outside. These are troubling signs in a vague way but they won’t kill him if they continue. Not eating will, so that is the point of our attack.
There are other foods I have yet to try, and I can also attempt a menu of human food, if that is the only option remaining. We have not reached that stage, fortunately; it is my reserve, if need be. Parker and I meet each day as it comes, and celebrate a little when he walks away from an empty food-bowl with a full stomach. I fear that in this slugging match with his unknown enemy, there is only the hard fight of attrition, with no great resounding victories. But if that is how we will win, so be it.
As Wellington said at Waterloo, “Hard pounding this, gentlemen; let’s see who will pound the longest.”