Happy quote Friday everyone. I’m feel drained today after a rough 24 hours, so my quote today is still a positive, hopeful one, but it speaks to underlying feelings I went through yesterday.

And yes, it’s about my sweet Nala.

“When the world says, ‘Give up,’ Hope whispers, ‘Try it one more time.’”

As many of you know, Nala has been steady the past week, on her new round of treatment and it’s given me great joy and hope. But Wednesday night, after I got home from dinner with Pete and the following morning, Nala started getting progressively worse. She was lethargic, she became listless and she just looked sick. She looked like she just didn’t want to try anymore, as if she was giving up, as if she was miserable. She wasn’t eating much, she didn’t really want to be around me (she tolerated it, but you could see in her face the look of “leave me alone, please.”) and my heart was breaking.

I went to work on Thursday with knots in my stomach…not wanting to go, but knowing I had to, and worrying steadily that she wasn’t doing well. My mom stopped by during lunch and called me to give me an update, and she didn’t have much better news. She didn’t come down to greet her at the door (as she always does), she didn’t want to eat, she didn’t want to be touched, really, and she was just not herself. At all.

I called the vet, and made an appointment for the earliest they had (5:30, effectively meaning I was going to miss the 5K, which was okay with me, obviously, at that point!), and left work early to bring her in. On the drive home, I prayed, and prayed, and prayed harder. I didn’t pray for God to save her, so much as to pray for God to help me make the right decision…if this was “it” I wanted and needed the strength to do what I needed to do. I thought she was giving up, and I wanted to do right by her. I cried all the way home. Jess was with me, and we both cried together. I walked in the door and found Nala by the stairs and pulled her into my lap and she just curled into my arms and laid there, letting me hold her. I cried more and just wanted her to be okay. Kayla was roaming around, with a worried look on her face, saying “mom, what’s wrong?” and that too, broke my heart.

We took her to the vet, and I cried again. I was scared, and I was afraid that she was giving up and this was it. After much talking, and Nala being looked over by my vet, we decided that we would give her more fluids, a B12 vitamin shot, a 24 hour antibiotic, and a new round of antibiotics (this round was what she was on two years ago with a similar problem, so I know this medicine works well for her). The vet agreed that she is sick, and that she may have some kind of virus that may be untreatable, but that there are still things we can – and should – investigate. I’m to call him tomorrow to discuss next steps (he wanted her to have the medicine for a couple of days first, to see how she reacts), but it will likely be extensive blood work to investigate potential viruses, including toxoplasmosis, and go from there.

What I took away from the conversation was, bottom line, whatever is ailing her may be untreatable…as in, treat her as long as she responds, but that she won’t be cured, and that “it” will (see how I can’t even write it?) be the end, at some point. I’m scared and saddened immensely at that thought, but in a way, it is allowing me to have a sense of peace, knowing that we are trying, we are going to help her feel better, and that’s really all you can do, and just try.

Why this quote is so meaningful today is two-fold…I was convinced she was giving up, and I was coping with the fact that I might have to do something that I never imagined I’d have to do with my cuddly, loving 6 year old kitty, but then, throughout the night…she slowly improved. She didn’t eat before bed, but I placed her next to me in bed, she laid there, and slept, and I half-slept, and woke up around midnight, eyes puffy from crying, but wanting to try…

I went downstairs and put food down, and she ate it. Ravenously! And then she woke me up with her famous “face bat” with her paw to my face at 2:30 in the morning, wanting more food. The one time I’ve been thrilled to be awoken that way, and I fed her more, and she ate it all, to the last drop.

And this morning? I woke to her sleeping next to my face on the pillow next to me. A moment. She was “meatloafing” next to my face, and she looked good. She bounded down the stairs past me and she ate a full can and then another half of a can before I went to work. She had energy, she had her spunk, and she was Nala. My Nala.

She was saying, I’m trying…one (maybe more) more time…I want to live, I want to be here, and I’m hungry, so feed me.

As I sit here in tears, more out of happiness that she is “her” again, for now, I am feeling Hope whispering…keep trying, and just take it one day at a time. So, I am, and I am going to drink in the “kitty love” all weekend and just enjoy. Because she’s here, she’s happy, and both of my furbabies are content. So, as they are content, I am content.

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