Validation's a bitch.

Yeah, sometimes validation of our life decisions comes in unexpected and shitty ways.

Just yesterday morning, I decided to quit my job of being a professional patient and stay at home with my kids, both 2- and 4-legged varieties.  By the time I went to sleep last night, four of the 4-legged kind were having a medical problem of some sort and some degree of severity.

Pea is of course still having her assumedly arthritic problems, and is on her medication, but has been limping really severely lately.  We don't know why, and we don't know what exactly we can do to help her feel any better than the meds might.

Sparky is limping severely, and we discovered that is due to a nasty scrape in the middle of his front left paw pad.  Aside from standard first aid treatment, there's not much we can do for that, save going to the vet to have her outfit him with some sort of doggie shoe, which I'm really not sure she has on hand.

Stella seemed to have all the side effect reactions available from her dewormer.  They usually feel crappy and run a bit of a temp when they get that, and she did.  She's been sleeping a lot more than usual (not that I mind THAT), and was a bit "off" yesterday.  If that's all the reaction she gets though, I'm fine and dandy with it.  Oz was so allergic to a dewormer once, his whole head swelled up!  She seems to be totally fine overall.

But Oz...he has been the biggest casualty of my inattention, and I just figured it out last night.  He is apparently much more upset about Stella's arrival than anyone else is, and than anyone would have guessed.  I've seen him downstairs, but I was never really paying attention to what he was doing, but it was apparently NOT eating or drinking.  I figured out last night that he's been starving himself and he's lost enough weight to scare me.  How did  I miss this?  I touch and pet this cat every day.  I cuddle with him for naps, I snuggle up with him at bedtime, and I have been, in the last few days even, and I never noticed anything out of the ordinary.

We're pretty sure that Stella is the main problem; although he comes into our bed while she's in the crate, and I have seen him in the room with her.  Leaving in a hurry, but in the room.  It couldn't have helped any that when Stella arrived, Conner was gone.  This new horrible thing came, and his boy was missing.  Double whammy.  My poor beautiful pussycat.

So, we've figured out that he does WANT to eat and drink, which is 90% of the battle.  We've now got food and drink in two places upstairs; on the chest in the hallway niche, and in our bedroom.  That way, whether our bedroom door is closed or not, he's always got access to food and water.  If he keeps up eating and drinking, he should rebound pretty well, but I've got to check with the vet about subcutaneous fluids anyway.  I'm incredibly worried and upset, but if he is eating and drinking, I will worry less.  I will still give him bowls of whipped cream and cream cheese and whole cans of tuna if he wants, but I will worry less.

I think that the universe is telling me that my decision yesterday was the right one!  I figured out that the best phrase for what I'm feeling right now is that I need to inhabit my own life.  Lately, I've just been skimming over my own life in order to do all kinds of other things.  It's all be about me, sure, but at the same time, I haven't done a damned thing for myself in the sense of taking time to do some yoga to unwind and help heal, much less get to a class, or go get my massage I have the gc for, or read a book, or finish season 2 of Dexter, or paint my toenails.  

Oh yeah, and I have a puppy to train.  I informed her this morning that the honeymoon was over, and we were going to be starting the real deal now.  Actual training.  I have no idea what in hell I'm doing, but we'll give it a shot anyway.

I am exceptionally glad I am not driving up to a doctor's appointment right this minute, like I was supposed to be.  I'm glad I am at home watching my puppy chew on a rope, and my gorgeous Peadog bask in front of the fire, and the fact that I'm going to go finish cleaning the kitchen after this.  I *am* limiting how much time I spend on my feet, because it affects my swelling a lot, but cleaning the kitchen actually feels good right now.

But before I do that, I think I'm going to go take my cat a can of tuna.