Here we go again...

Chewy, my cat of 12 years, is sick.... very sick.

Sunday I get a text message from my sister saying that he's not eating and is really sick. They are going to take him to the vet and if it's bad they are putting him down. Of course, I flip out and start heading over there to say goodbye. This cat is my cat. He is my favorite. He was mine and I was his. He was all I had sometimes. He was what I looked forward to coming home to at those times in my teenage years when I had no one and couldn't call pretty much anyone a real friend. He was my baby.

So, I get there and we take him to the vet. He is not necessarily ready to be put down, but he does have an enlarged liver and is jaundice. Liver disease is the doctor's guess, but we won't know for sure until about 5PM today. In the meantime, he spent the night at the doctor where they have him on meds and stuck a tube down his stomach so he could get nourishment and hydration (he had been throwing up everything for the last 3 or 4 days and was skin and bones).

There is hope for now--the doc didn't feel any tumors and aparently the liver is one of the most healable organs in the body, so he could bounce right back. We'll know more by tonight or tomorrow.

Pray for me, people. Another of my cats dying is just one more thing I don't need right now...