Yep: Grady’s back home in the heart of Tabby’s Place!
Good news first: our Grady-love is eating, he’s rolling around merrily when cuddled (ahhh, that happy belly!), and he’s stopped that upsetting “gacking” he’d been doing almost constantly back in our hospital. (And, yes, “gacking” is a scientific term veterinarians use. No, not really.) It wasn’t quite spitting up, since nothing came up, but it was a prolonged, open-mouthed gag with a distinct phlegminess. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fun for Grady. And, whatever it was, Grady’s now left it in the dust.
The best news, of course, is that Grady’s “home” where he’s happiest - our lobby. The love and doting don’t stop all day, and the wet food (not to mention dry food, and treats) abounds. Our supremely easygoing tabby is as unruffled as ever by his neighbors, from prissy Peachy to the newest lobby face, the unsinkable Tony. (Side note on Tony: this sweet survivor is insatiable when it comes to food, and spent his first hours in the lobby emptying every dish in sight. More stunned than upset, Grady just watched Tony in astonishment!)
Now, as Grady’s dear ones, you deserve the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so I must include the murky news, too. Our snuggle-bug is still not quite right, and we’re still not quite sure why that’s the case. He’s doing a bit more hiding and keeping to himself than usual, and just seems a bit…quiet. (OK, not that Grady was ever quite the Speedy Gonzales of cats, but everything is relative.)
But, let’s wrap that murky mystery in a good-news sandwich: our vet, the marvelous Dr. Collins, is fairly confident that whatever is causing Grady grief, it is not his cancer. (Yes, I just had to ask her that point-blank. And, I’m so glad I did! :-)) As for that un-Grady-like hiding, it’s highly possible that he’s just a bit cranky about the last two days’ poking and prodding: yesterday, the “mean” veterinary team of Dr. C and Denise took blood from Grady (which tested “all normal,” by the way), and today, Danielle and Ginny gave Grady an unwanted manicure. You can’t blame the poor guy for being leery of humans after all that action.
But, I am so grateful to report, he’s still very much our Grady-baby. When I knelt down beside the reception desk, a few feet from where he was hiding by the computer tower, and softly said his name, my hand extended, he rambled right over to me, rubbing his precious head against my knee and presenting his tummy for a belly rub within seconds.
So, fellow Grady-adorers, while our little tabby love-bug is still giving us some medical mysteries to solve, he’s moving - dare I say, happy-dancing? - in the right direction. Thanks for loving him and for all of your (very effective :-)) prayers; every one of your comments is precious to Grady and all of us who care about him.