I finally cleared up the conservatory, turned out two black bags of rubbish, re-filed stuff, discovered a duvet and pillow to wash and found a desk underneath it all. Hurray! A desk in the brightest room! A place to read, sip tea, crochet, create, in daylight............ er no, cos then Scooter found it. One folded quilt later and....
I took this one a few minutes later. He is enjoying the sun on his face. Look closely; I'm sure that's a wee smile there:
Like I said last time, there are times when he makes my heart go ahhhhhh......
This evening, on my return from taking Mum out for a few hours, he seemed odd. Not quite right. Mum was making a fuss of him, still there on the table, and I don't know what it was, but he didn't seem quite right.
Next Luvbug was helping get the washing in from the garden. I was looking at Scooter and thought he was falling off the table, so I ran indoors.
Scooter wouldn't be helped or hugged, instead he jumped down to the floor and, walking on his haunches, proceeded to sniff out a trail on a floor. He worked like a bloodhound, not lifting his head, just constantly sniffing as he went along, through and out of that room, then into and all round the next, obstacles either being ignored, whereupon he just marched on the spot, or climbed over under or through. He went through the living room, all round the edges while we moved stuff out of his way, then around the kitchen, to the back door, then back, round in circles.....
At first we sort of laughed, nervously, hoping that what had happened is that the catarrh had suddenly gone and now he was enjoying sniffing smells for the first time in ages! But I wasn't so sure. It was like he was having a manic episode.
At one point he circled my legs and did a tiny 'mow' as though to ask for help, so I lifted him up (I'd tried before but he'd wrestled me away) and held him for quite a while, whilst Mum and Luvbug talked quietly to him. He settled, relaxed, half closed his eyes after a while.. finally he was calm. Mum and I sat with him and stroked him and encouraged him to just rest. Then he was off, jumping down and over to one of his best stretching out spots. His eyes were meeting mine at last, so I felt he was back to normal.
When Scoot had a seizure a few months ago, they said it was really important to get him to eat, as seizures make the blood sugar drop. So I put a sachet of his favourite mushy smelly goodness in front of him and he ate nearly all of it.
He's now back to the quilt on top of the desk, stretched out. I keep checking on him.
Any cat people out there with any advice?
I think this was a funny turn, aka, a seizure. I wonder if this is it now, seizures on a downward slope. Maybe it isn't cataarh, maybe it's a tumour. The vet did hint at checking for this if the meds didn't work, trouble is, it owuld mean knocking Scooter out, and at 18 1/2 yrs old, that isn't advisable.
I've a had cry in the loo. And I'm sipping a brandy.
My poor cub.