There's... an up and down to being a pet "owner". In quotes. Yes. I'm one of those crazy mo-fos who wonders who owns who.

Well, last week, my cat Rydia (Yes. I named her after a game character. Shutup.) Was acting listless, and kinda limp. Well... it scared both me and my parents. So, they took her into the vet and the vet told us that she most likely had a fatty liver. She was also dehydrated. So for the past week, we've been injecting saline solution under her skin for hydration, giving her antibiotics and a few other pills for the liver. And force feeding her. Oh man. That's an adventure. I won't be sorry for that to be done.

But, hey. It does need to be done, and one of the pills needs to be taken with food... but it's really a good way to loose a finger or three.

All day yesterday was kind of scary though. She didn't move much, and seemed more than content with just laying with me and purring. Which sounds "awwwww" worthy. Except my mom freaked out. Oh man... she was sure that it was death watch. By night's end, we all were. While I wasn't holding much hope, I insisted on taking her to the vet.

Hell, I figured taking her in was the death march.

Thankfully, it wasn't nearly that bad. In fact, the doctor thought there was improvement. Not out of the woods, but definitely better.

I'm pretty sure I deflated as the doc told me the news.

Needless to say, the rest of the day was about a million times better than the three and a quarter days previous.

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