Cost be damned

It was two weeks ago when first I mentioned Kazon being somewhat ill, what with a rather pungent case of diarrhea that lasted about three days.  As I mentioned then, he never acted sick, never had a fever, never wavered in his pursuit of food and water, and certainly never got worse.

And then it went away.  Just as quickly as it appeared, whatever vexed his belly vanished overnight such that the very next day his toilet activities returned to normal.  I even mentioned it to Jenny in an e-mail last week.

It lasted a couple of days only–just long enough to send me into utter panic mode thinking I’d have to take him to the vet (which I couldn’t pay for, so that didn’t help). I watched him closely over those days. He never had a fever, never acted sick, and certainly didn’t have any pause in his appetite or drinking habits. Another thing was none of the other cats got sick or had similar symptoms. Then it up and disappeared within a few days (two, three at most). Obviously a little stomach bug, I think.

It has been a week since I wrote that.  Now the vile agent tormenting him has returned.

I noticed it last night as he entered one of the cat boxes, tended to his litter duties, and raced off as he normally does (as though most offended by what has just happened, something he’s done since he was a baby).  I happened to be sitting near the toilet he used and immediately realized a foul odor wafted vehemently from the box.

I checked it and found the ailment had returned.  His bowel movements again reeked and came as unpleasant diarrhea.  I cleaned the box, and then I turned my attention to him.

He still has no fever.  His appetite and water consumption both remain normal.  His activities and demeanor are unaffected.

Yet something is wrong with him.

A few moments ago he sat atop the desk near enough to me that I could hear his stomach grumbling.  It’s a sound I recognized from my own bout with salmonella a month ago.  It is the sound of illness, of a disquieted belly tumultuously upset and unsettled.

I cannot let him suffer despite his apparent nonchalance about it.  Yes, he just had a bite to eat in the kitchen.  That’s a good sign.  Yes, he continues to drink water in quantities reminiscent or normalcy.  Yes, he plays and sleeps and lives as he always has, and he gives and gets affection with the utter abandon for which he is known.

Still, he’s not well.

I’ll give it another day to see if it clears up.  Even if it does, though, I likely will take him in anyway to have a checkup.  This is not normal.  To be revisited by the same ailment only a few weeks after its first appearance is troublesome at best.  It could be nothing; it could be serious.

And I don’t care about not having the money to cover the costs of a vet visit and the tests they’ll undoubtedly want to do.  I will gladly starve to accommodate their needs and care.  I would rather eviscerate my own flesh with hunger than see one of them suffer, let alone remain sick for any length of time.

Tomorrow, then, or perhaps the day after.  Whether or not the symptoms remain, he goes…cost be damned.

[Update] Waiting has ended.  Kazon has taken to hiding under the cat castle.  This is so highly unusual for him, so out of character, that I can no longer rest on the premise of “wait and see” to determine my next step.  He has an appointment with the vet tomorrow—the earliest they had available.  Something is terribly wrong.  Now, much unlike his first episode with this bedeviling bug, he’s acting sick.  For Kazon, this is extraordinary.  And highly disconcerting.

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