This is . . . fuck. He's pitiful. This is what he does. He will start playing, and then start coughing, but he won't put his toy down and . . . fuck. It's both hilarious and heartbreaking.
Here he has an asthma attack while holding his favorite toy mouse in his mouth, then plays fetch. The fetching starts halfway through. The quality is crap, my apologies, but you can see that he is a very good retriever. I mean, he could do this all. Day. Long. You can also hear why I am concerned. That nasty cough.
We're taking him to the vet later today to see if the antibiotics have helped and his white blood cell count is back down, but he is still having coughing fits like this one, unpredictably.
I'm in the process of trying to get a bunch of stuff together to sell but . . . I just don't have the spoons to pull my shit together. And I feel awful, like I don't really care, but that's just not true, I just . . . I don't know where to even start.
We'll . . . we'll see what the vet wants to do, and get a figure, and work from there, I suppose. I think a chest x-ray would probably be a good idea, and that's ~$160.
I keep telling myself that he is insanely healthy otherwise, and there's no way it could possibly be something truly dire in a cat with such dense fur and plush skin and bright eyes and solid muscles, a cat who is so energetic and alert and perpetually hungry. It's probably something that will need maintenance and care, but that isn't life-threatening. I keep telling myself that.
I love the stupid little asshole more than I did two weeks ago because now I'm worried about him, and in the meantime he's done a lot of growing up . . . even in two weeks, he has changed; he is so young still . . . he's not a cuddler, but he wants to be friends. He wants to play and play and play, all the time.
He got into my underwear drawer the other day and rooted through my panties to retrieve one of his "sometimes" toys, a big blue mouse that chirps, with LED eyes that flash. As the gods are my judge, I have no idea how he knew it was in there, since I hid it when he was clear across the house without setting it off. I am lucky he didn't pull out, like, my vibrating egg, which is very toy-mouse-like in its way. Still, he will remember that he found a toy there ONCE and now I will never be able to keep him from rooting around in there when he's bored.
All he is good at is finding and fetching his toys. He was laying by the door with his nasty old mouse when we came home from the movies tonight, just, you know, in case. Yesterday morning when he heard Sargon wake up and turn off the alarm, he went and grabbed his mouse from where it had been hidden on the countertop and brought it and sat in front of the door, so painfully hopeful and earnest that I couldn't even yell at him for being on the counter.
He's a good boy, a sweet, sweet cat, he's just not very bright. He only understands "food" and "mouse" and "wrestle" and "head-butt." He can't even figure out how to bury his poop, and for a while, a couple of weeks ago, I was genuinely afraid he had become lost inside a paper bag. He looked like he truly could not figure out how to escape. He will spend hours looking for his favorite mouse, though, if you hide it. Inside everything, on top of everything, behind everything, under everything. The one white mouse with no tail or ears or anything, just a really good rattling sound. He is diligent, I will give him that. If he were a wild cat, he would be an amazing hunter, and would probably sire lots of incredibly stupid kittens before drowning while staring up at a bird during a thunderstorm.
I will have things to sell, including some arts, but if you feel inclined to help right now, here's the button. I have to go find him and try to wear him out before I go to sleep.