Our cat Lewis has been hit with FLUTD â€” that is, feline lower urinary tract disease â€” and I’m totally bummed.
Even though the diagnosis could be much, much worse, I became a wreck this evening over the thought of it indeed being much, much worse â€” as in a fatal condition that the doctor threw out as a possibility.
So we have to monitor Lewis’ litter-box visits as best we can now, which I’m sure perplexes and annoys the heck out of him. But since returning from the vet this evening, I observed that he tried to empty his bladder 11 times within one hour, and only the first visit to a box was successful. He’s also keeping his distance from us and choosing to camp out under the dining table despite our coaxing.
Just the other day I was telling Ben that we have the best cats in the world and that I hope they stay healthy and live long enough for our son to love and play with them too. So I found it incredibly unfair to find that so soon after that conversation we are faced with thoughts of those same sweet cats’ mortality.
Get well soon, Lewis.