At this point, we’re just accepting that Toby’s not going anywhere any time soon. He’s eating, even coming out in search of food if/when he gets hungry. He’s moving himself around to nap spots in different parts of the house. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain. And it’s been 3-1/2 weeks since he was sent home from the hospital with a 10% chance of survival. Yeah, Toby!
Meanwhile, Romeo is getting jealous. When Toby decided he wanted to sleep on the futon in our spare bedroom, Romeo suddenly decided he had to sleep on the lower perch on that cat tree. I do not recall ever seeing him in that spot before. But he’s not directly harassing Toby, which is very good. He’s just competing for the attention.
Meanwhile, Annie & Duke just chug along.
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The leading cause of medical miracles is misdiagnosis. All these vets are super quick to push the cheap “euthanasia option”. Toby dodged that bullet.
None of those were the case here. And I don’t think this is true wherever you have built a relationship with your vet. Our current vet has been our primary one for at least a decade. She understands how far we will go for our cats, but also understands that we don’t want to prolong their lives for our own sake. It’s always a balance, trying to understand when your pet isn’t getting enough out of life to continue. Again, in Toby’s case, we were preparing the euthanasia option if the only option turned out to be ongoing, intensive critical hospitalization. It wasn’t working for him, nor for us. But we were lucky. The intensive care eventually stopped his downward slide, and made it possible for us to keep him relatively happy and comfortable at home. For now, at least.