Our fat cat Berta  just keeps ringing up the bills. 

A couple of days ago, I’m ready to go to bed and Berta is not in her usual place near the hallway (so she can monitor any chance to be fed).  Instead, she’s in the kitchen, sitting there.  She doesn’t come when I call her.  I go to her, and I find that she cannot move her hind legs. 

Shit. 

Berta has severe arthritis in her back legs which we keep under control with monthly injections of Solensia (ka-ching).  Only the vet can administer it (ka-ching), but it does help – a lot. 

So I carry Berta into the “cat bathroom”, where her food dish is, and give her her nightly bedtime meal (she is diabetic (2 shots of insulin a day – ka-ching, ka-ching), and we feed her ½ can of DM wet food 4 times a day). 

Usually, when it’s time for wet food Berta RUNS down the hall (quite the sight to see her tubby body swaying back and forth to the click-click-click of her nails on the wood floor).  And once there, she LOUDLY proclaims that it is TIME for FOOD!

This time, she doesn’t let out a peep, but she does scarf down the food – only laying on her belly with her hind legs splayed out behind her. 

When she is done, I carry her to the she-cave, and we lay down on the recliner, because I don’t want to leave her by herself.  She stayed with me for a long time (she usually gets bored and leaves after no more than 15 minutes or so).  I helped her down to the floor and she dragged herself over to my pile of clothes to go to Good Will (one of her favorite spots) and settled down there, and I went to sleep to the sounds of her snores.

I woke up at around 4 a.m., and she wasn’t there. ??? So I go on a cat hunt.  I found her in her other favorite place – in the guest bedroom.  I made sure she had water, and I took my tired (and worried) fat old lady ass to bed. 

In the morning, I called the vets, explained what was going on and got an appointment to bring her in that morning.  (My vets are great – Countryside Animal Hospital in Freeland, if you’re in the area and in the market for a vet.)

Brought the big Burps in, she got examined.  Yup, no doubt, her back legs aren’t working.  Got x-rays (ka-ching), got an advanced illness blood workup (ka-ching), and brought her home no wiser than I before.

Still have not heard from the vets (admittedly, they did try to call me when I was at one of my never-ending doctor’s appointments), but Berta has steadily been getting better.

She still tends to eat laying on her belly, with her legs splayed, but she walks pretty well but with a pronounced limp.  I think her left leg is the problem.  She’s eating and drinking fine (like anything this side of death could keep Berta from eating).  And I’m left wondering.  WTF happened? 

Maybe she slept wrong on her leg?  Maybe she had a little stroke?  Fuck if I know. What I do know is that we’re going to get to keep spending money on our tubby tuna of a cat, and that is A-okay with me.