It looks good.
It smells good.
It's FF's liver and chicken in gravy with a crunchy topping of Purina Cat Chow.
But there's something lurking in there.
Medicine! Pill pieces - a half piece and a quarter piece!
Mom hides pills in my food, and can you believe that I don't even notice. She and Dad think it's because I inhale my food. Whatever. The pills are something new for me back in July.
This past winter Mom noticed that I was licking my fur a lot, and I would lick and lick and lick my tummy until some of the fur disappeared. When I went to the doctor, he didn't seem too concerned and said that it was probably "stress." He said he could give me some tranquilizers. Mom laughed at the idea that I could be under stress (well, as you all know, it's hard work being a cool cat, but she didn't see it that way), and she didn't want me on tranquilizers. Maybe we should have tried the 'nip.
By the time for my regular checkup, I had a voracious appetite, yet I seemed to be losing a little bit of weight. I had licked my cute spotted fur from my chest and tummy. Dad wasn't too concerned about the weight because he thought that I was getting a bit porky. Anyway, this time another doctor put on my paperwork that I had something called "alopecia," and he took blood from me. I hate needles, but I was very brave.
The doctor phoned Mom later and said that I have something called hyperthyroidism. I will have to take pills for the rest of my life. At first the doctor said that I should have one pill with each meal. Dad was very concerned about me the first day after starting the pills because I wasn't myself, his "little man." I was what they called "lethargic." I was very tired and wanted to sleep more than usual. Well, that wore off in a day or two, but I still wasn't quite normal.
I had to have another blood test, and the doctor decided that I should have 3/4 of a pill with each meal. Good thing Mom knows how to do fractions. I think it's working out pretty good now. My fur has grown back and my chest looks very handsome again. (Modesty is not my strong point.) Mom wanted to take a picture to show you all, but I wasn't in the mood.
Anyway, I just wanted to tell all my new cat friends that it's not TOO bad to have to take pills, especially if it might make you live longer. I'm only 12, and a long time ago I had a beautiful big sister, a torbie-colored Maine Coon (not like the awful coon that came to my deck) who lived to be 19. I hope to make it to the big two-oh.