I had a very long weekend.  I realize that when I bark about time that most people think dogs exaggerate.  When you leave a dog alone, even for 5 minutes in people time, an eternity has passed in dog time.  With that in mind, I tell you that it was a very long weekend indeed.

My parents insisted on bringing a cat home to our den.  The cat was the very same Downy cat that I told you about last week.  No sooner had he found his freedom and regained the ability to make the yellow liquid come out on his own, than his mother brought him back to the clinic.  "Something's not right" she pleaded, "he's acting so sleepy and when he tries to go, nothing comes out."  My parents looked at each other in that we're-worried-but-let's-not-show-it kind of way.  They took red syrup for testing and put another red rubber tube up the former-boy-now-turned-girl parts.  I knew that Downy was sick when he didn't spit and swear while the work was being done.  After the testing was finished, father reported the results to Downy's mom; "It looks like his kidneys are shutting down.  We'll have to keep him in the hospital again to try to get them going."  Sure, I felt bad for the guy, or girl, whatever, but that didn't mean I was willing to have him at the den. 

Of course, my feelings did not stop mother.  Downy moved right in.  He took over one of the raining rooms at night, and spent every day outside in the room with the blue lake.  I guess you have to scream and threaten to kill people for touching your belly to get special treatment around here!

So it was a long two days of watching fluid get put into the cat.  Two days of watching mother put medicine into Downy's mouth, under his skin and into the tube in this leg.  Two days of listening to Downy scream when his belly got touched, and two days of smelling some of the most delicious food I've ever smelled sit untouched in front of the angry, angry cat.  It was a very long two days.

Finally, today he went back to the clinic. Of course, Bea and I went back too, so it wasn't much of a break for us.  But Downy was different today.  He was holding his head up, and making the sound like he swallowed some kind of rumbling machine.  He still smelled of the yellow marking liquid, but there was much less anger mixed in.  Mother retested Downy's red syrup and happily declared to Downy's mom, "His values are almost back to normal.  I think he'll be ok if he'd just start eating.  We'll try sending him home tonight!". 

Now I don't know if cats can understand human speak as well as dogs, but as if on cue, Downy got up and started eating.  I've never been so happy to see someone else get to eat instead of me.  But if it means that I get a cat-free house, I say eat up Downy, eat up!!