My cat has inflammatory bowel disease!

Supposedly.  Solo is typically a 15-pound cat (his “ideal body weight”) but has most recently slimmed down to a sad 11 lbs 12 ounces because he has been throwing up.  A lot.  Necessitating frequent Resolve-cleaning of our rugs, followed by frequent vet visits, blood work, x-rays, ultrasound, and now finally, a special prescription-only venison diet, pepcid and steroids! He takes 5 mg of prednisolone daily, mashed into his half-a-can of venison.

I can’t live like this.

You don’t ever expect to become a special-needs cat owner, unless you’re really into cats, and as much as I love my cat(s), I didn’t expect this.  I didn’t expect to be taking him to vet appointments on an almost-weekly basis; I didn’t expect to be mashing pills into his food and feeding him an expensive food regimen (more expensive than my own weekly grocery bill, but then again, I eat cheaply); but, I apparently love him, and love knows no bounds, and I want him to feel better in his tummy.

So this is what it means when they say love hurts.  This is what it means when a parent has to see their neonate go through a sepsis work-up.  Perhas I trivialize parenthood when I compare cats to infants, but still…I want Solo to feel better!