Tucker and I went to the veterinary hospital yesterday. The smudge under his nostril that I thought was a scab was just that: a scab. An $84 scab.
It had not been healing properly, and I was worried that it might be a symptom of something much more dangerous. I decided to get it examined by the veterinary and, while I am pleased it turned out to be nothing of importance, it was an expensive resolution to my worry.
However, I also learned that Tucker’s weight-loss is so gradual that I need not be very concerned about it. The doctor figures it is not incompatible with a cat aging, and wants me to keep an eye on it, but is not worried by it. The roly poly’s fur is not as healthy as it was, so I will be giving him salmon oil. I had tried this previously but had put it on his food, which was not as successful as I would have liked. This time, I will use a syringe to give it to him directly. He may even like the taste of it, though I doubt that that will reconcile him to being force-fed. Otherwise, Tucker is in good condition, with a healthy heart and lungs.
He was a happy cat once he returned home, and ate a good dinner. He had an enjoyable evening, with some play-time, relaxation, a little hissing at the new cat, and then bed. He quickly forgot his trip to the hospital. But then, he doesn’t have a bill for a reminder.