My poor little Simba is not doing well. He responded well the first day, but after that he regressed. We decided to bring him home, hoping that being here with us would perk him up. I don't think he has moved.
I know it seems so stupid to be so upset about a cat. I know it does. But I can't help it. He's been part of our life the entire time I've known my husband. He's moved with us. He's been through the good and bad. He is also a tangible link to my step-daughter's now deceased mother.
This past year has been full of loss. We've lost two friends, my uncle, our child. I just can't face loosing someone else. Even if that someone is a cat.
For now, I am feeding him with a syringe. If we can get him eating then his outlook is good. But right now, he shows no interest at all.
I'm still hopful.