My kitty isn’t diabetic, and that’s left me frustrated, angry, sad, and more than a little scared. I noticed that MaggieMoo was losing a lot of weight, even though her appetite hasn’t changed. She hasn’t seemed ill in any way, but she’s been drinking a bit more than usual. Habitually chubby kitty, drinking a lot, eating a lot, losing weight…diabetes is my first guess. So I take her to work to run some tests on her tonight.
The good news is that Moo won’t have to have regular blood draws and daily injections. The bad news is that we haven’t a clue what’s wrong with her. Her chem panel is perfectly normal. So is her physical exam. So is her urinalysis. Radiographs show nothing but that she’s full of shit…so full that you can’t see anything in her abdomen but feces. Right now, we’ve got nothing to work with.
Maybe it’s just the effects of working with doomed animals all the time, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s something very much Not Good. My head keeps telling me she could just be hyperthyroid (we’ve sent a panel out, but it’ll take a few days to come back). My gut, though…my gut tells me that my little moo-kitty will be going to that big litterbox in the sky before long. Either her combo test will come back positive this time, or the internists will tell me she’s got some horrible disease that we can’t treat effectively. Or the treatment will be really awful for her to endure, or we won’t be able to afford it.
I don’t know, maybe I’d feel better about her chances if the last week hadn’t been such a parade of death. I still wish she had something easy like diabetes, though.