Leo continued eating less and less. We had 90-plus-degree weather over the weekend, so everyone was a little off their food, but it reached the point where he literally would not eat.
The weather broke Monday. Still no luck. He'd lap up diluted gravy, but nothing solid.
This morning, he vomited clear liquid and was acting very stressed.
Waiting the half-hour for my vet to open has never seemed so long...
Anyway, I just got off the phone with the vet.
Good news: He isn't blocked up.
Bad news: He still has blood in his urine. He still has no appetite. His kidneys are enlarged, possibly with soft-tissue tumors. His pulse rate is off the charts. The vet suspects possible lymphoma, which might respond (temporarily) to drugs, buying another few months. Maybe. Assuming, of course, that he starts eating again.
Why, yes, junior mathematicians, that is significantly more bad news than good.
Anyway, I'm supposed to call back this afternoon to see how things are going. The ball's in Leo's court right now; if he doesn't rally, I'll be bringing home an empty crate.
It's times like this I wish I had friends...
UPDATE: Well, I just got off the phone with the vet. Leo's staying overnight. (I have a bad feeling he's worse off than the vet initially thought... he has eaten some, but still is having troubles.) Tomorrow, I should know more.
I am a 41-year-old beast, passably resembling a human being, with no clue what I'm supposed to be doing with my life and no money to do it with even if I knew.
In the meantime, I review books, daydream too much, write and draw too little, and generally waste space by existing.