Anxious

Yesterday Lilly (the fat one) was quite spectacularly ill during the day. She also had a couple of episodes of retching that just produced liquid. When I got up this morning, she didn't come for her breakfast. This is vey unusual. When I went to look for her, she was sitting by the bed, very still. a;though she took a couple of steps, she didn't want to go downstairs. She is 12 or 13 (best guess, no-one's really sure, I got her from a rescue centre 10 years ago) but theis morning was the first tiome she has ever looked old and frail.

I fretted all day, got home and was horrified to find that she was not where I had left her this morning, or indeed in any of her other hiding places. I was convinced she had taken herself of to die, but she suddenly appeared, walking slowly through the kitchen. I put some food down and she sniffed it, but didn't eat anything. However, she did have a drink. A huge drink.

She is now at the vets. They were running late, so she spent over 45 miutes in the box. By the time we were called in, she was much more feisty and her usual self, but the vet was concerned by her drinking. They've run some initial tests that indicate raised levels of some chemicals associated with kidnety and/or liver failure, which could also be raised as a result of an infection. We have left her overnight to be hooked up to a drip for intravenous antibiotics and fluids to rehydrate. They will also run some further blood tests.

I was due to go to London tomorrow, to see Debbie Stoller at Stitch n Bitch UK, but I won't be going now. I want to pick my baby up tomorrow and I don't want to have one of those "It'll cost more to treat her than the limit we set ourselves, what are we going to do?" type of conversations with A when I am 150 miles away.

Ho hum.