Last week started off badly when we took Nigel along with Poppy to the vet for a routine visit. She has both anxiety and allergies, and Nigel just seemed a bit skinny. Some blood and urine tests later, we realised that Nigel’s kidneys were not in a good state, and he had lost a third of his body weight.
Cells were examined under the microscope and the dreaded C word was mentioned. I was in such a state, I didn’t take in half of what the vet said and had to email her to get the rest of the information. The next day rolled around, and we had to take poor little Nige in to be put on a drip. Nigel hates the vet with a passion and can be heard shouting from the carpark when he visits, so I absolutely loathe having to take him in but this time it couldn’t be avoided.
We discussed the results with the wonderful Dr. Charmaine, I started blubbing (embarrassing) and then compared not treating Nigel to my Mom deciding not to have chemo. At this point, I felt like my transition to mad cat lady was complete.
The following day I had to take Nige from Richmond Animal Hospital to Bryanston Veterinary Hospital for a scan. This time I was sensible and wore waterproof mascara. I was worried about loadshedding and how it affects the traffic so left really early but I needn’t have bothered as the homeless guys are doing a PHENOMENAL job on William Nicol directing traffic.
They also have learnt that they need a tip collector so now a chap comes along collecting cash whilst they do their thing in the traffic. Absolutely worth the money. I mean obvs it would be nice if our tax money paid for traffic cops to direct the traffic but hahahahahahaha like that’s ever going to happen.
The Bryanston Vet is verrrry impressive, they even have a cat room which I swear smells of that pheromone spray and an abundant supply of blankets to cover the cat carriers of anxious pets.
The very kind Dr. Salome swept Nigel off for his scan. The results were good – and bad. He doesn’t have lymphoma, but he has kidney stones in his one kidney and the other one has stopped working. She estimates that he has a few months to live and won’t last the year.
No, I did not blub and was very dignified when I heard the news.
I think it helped that she was so kind and forthright and said that as a rescue, Nige was very blessed not to have been euthanized or left on the streets and we should be proud that we’ve given him eight happy years.
Telling the kids was something I was dreading doing but as I put the Firstborn on hold whilst I spoke to Charmaine about the initial results, he already knew something was up. At least I could say it wasn’t cancer, but still kidney failure is hardly jolly news and both kids were very sad. They also knew how devastated we would be as these rescue cats have been like children to us, so the Firstborn keeps sending me cute cat vids on Tiktok which I find very cheering.
I also had brekkers with the Westcliff Wives directly after my trip and kept saying ‘don’t be nice to me or I’ll cry’. Don’t you find that? If you’re feeling weepy and someone is nice, it just makes you blub? I much prefer bad jokes.
I went to see Nigel on the Thursday morning at Richmond Animal Hospital because he was still on a drip. He was extremely pissed off with me and headbutting the door of his cage which I thought was a good sign. Across from him was a cat who has just been neutered and was looking both stoned and not very pleased. Although, the resting bitch face may also have been a result of the noise Nige was making.
The patient is now at home and on a special diet and we’ll just have to see how he does. Although, after all the drama with him, I found out that one of my friends had just had to put her cat down and the other friend’s kitten was run over whilst they were away. Horrible, horrible, horrible. So, I felt lucky that we’ll have a bit more time with Prince Nigel de Vos.
I find it embarrassing how upset I get about my cats, but I’m afraid I cannot help it. They sit with me every day whilst I write and with the Husband while he watches TV at night. They are definitely our substitute kids or as the Firstborn refers to them “Mummy’s Real Children”.
Here’s to a few more good months with our Nige.
I needed something uplifting after the dramatic week I’d had so I watched Oprah interviewing Michelle Obama about her book The Light We Carry. I lurrrrrve both of them, Michelle is so funny and so real, I adore how she speaks about her marriage to Barack (apparently, she didn’t like him for about 10 years of their marriage.) Enjoyed the interview very much.
I wanted to get the new Emily Henry Happy Place and was so chuffed it was coming out on Kindle before the long weekend. Then I saw the price and nearly passed out. Twenty-four dollars and thirty-one cents (around R444)!! Meanwhile at Exclusive’s I can get it for three hundred and fifty SA ronts. The only snag is that it seems the book is only available at Exclusive’s from May 1st but I refuse to pay more for an ebook than a beautiful physical copy. It’s not like you can stroke and sniff the Kindle version. Well, you can but it’s not quite the same.
I checked with a publisher friend about why this should be. Basically, our market for ebooks is so small here they don’t really give a shit about our crappy exchange rate and so shem and sorry for us.
All the more reason, I guess to buy physical books and to buy local.
Speaking of local (see what I did there) I got a nice write up in the Wits Review for the shitfaced book. I was part of the inaugural Creative Writing Masters in 2002 so it’s lovely to be remembered like this. Thank you, Carol Hellman for sending it to me!
Have a great long weekend and happy reading!