Friday night we rushed her to the Kitty ER where they took x-rays and told me that the reason why my beloved feline can't breathe is due to masses of - something - in her lungs. "Could be pneumonia, could be cancer - we'd have to do more tests to be sure..."
After midnight we picked her back up and took her home where she slept next to the bed in a little, shaky, furry pile. Shallow breaths rack her little frame as she struggles to sleep. Food, once her favorite pasttime has now been forgotten.
I took her to Dr. Tambling, her regular vet who took more x-rays only to annouce "It could be pneumonia, or cancer... we really can't be sure..." Phoebe slept fitfully in her tiny carrier while Dr. Tambling stressed the importance of squirting 1 ML of an antibiotic into my ever-shrinking kitty's mouth. "Be careful not to choke her - we don't want anything else foriegn getting into her lungs."
No pressure, there. Ugh.
So I have to hold her - upright - while I pry open her tiny mouth with my finger, stick the syringe in and give her the dose in three increments. All the while praying she doesn't choke on it and hoping, too, that she doesn't take one of my much-needed fingers with her when she flies away from me in fit of furry fury.
So, please, send happy thoughts (or padded gloves) our way!