“IF I COULD TALK TO THE ANIMALS”

Our Zappa isn’t feeling well–wants to eat and drink but can’t, even catnip which brought him out from under the bed wasn’t tantalizing enough to eat. Yesterday’s X-ray–fine. Blood work–perfect. He got liquids and anti-nausea shot, the latter working until an hour ago when he started throwing up bile again, poor boy.

He wants to be with us and just moved to the little “house” in their kitty high-rise. I’m freezing ice cubes to see if he’ll lick those. Meanwhile, his best buddy, Sebrina, watched over him, below, while he was under the bed, then Ziggy stood by him. Breenie moved closer to the couch but couldn’t keep from turning her head and checking on him. Then she smelled his pillow on the sofa and sat against it, falling asleep.

We’ve had major loud renovations on the apartment across from ours. Maybe that stressed him out. He’s just 8 and our “man of the house.” His siblings and I are so worried and sad.

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Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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