Some say love it is a river that drowns the tender reed

Kato is back in the hospital. On his second night but sounds like he'll be ready to come home tomorrow. Monday morning I saw that he had another blockage and was pretty uncomfortable so back to the vet we go for the same damn thing over again. "Do you have a buy one / get one half off deal?" I said. Ha haha, said the vet, thinking I'd made a joke.

He needed some meds from the compounding pharmacy so for convenience (lest they add some delivery fee to my bill) I picked them up when they were ready and took them to the vet's office. They thought it would be good for me to visit Kato, or good for Kato, rather, and hoped I'd be able to get him to eat something. He's not real keen on the prescription food he'll now have to eat for months and months. He looked awful...his face seemed too thin and he had an IV in his front leg, and his fur gets all flaky and dull when he goes to the vet. Stress shedding. We had some good petting, holding and cuddling though. He was purring and growling at the same time. Not feeling his best. He ate a few bites of the yucky prescription food for me, but not much. Then I left and cried in my car for a minute.

Later the vet called to say that since my visit, he'd chowed down on the dry food and he'd been peeing on his own, quite enthusiastically and voluminously, all over one of the vet techs and on various other animate and inanimate surfaces. I don't know if she said this because it sounded like such a nice story to tell a worried and sad kitty owner, or because it was exactly truly what happened. Who am I to question the power of a loving touch and familiar voice and smell when you've been in a scary place for awhile. Some say love, it is a Big Gulp, or a waterfall, or a running faucet...