Yesterday morning I took Kidd to the specialist that my regular vet had referred him to. It was a busy and bustling office, but the staff were warm and friendly. A nice tech took Kidd’s history and then spirited him away for a few minutes for mundane things like temperature and weight while I knit rapidly and mindlessly. (Temp, normal / weight, way low)

When returned, Kidd cuddled up close to me and stuck his head up my sweater sleeve. He knows that if his head is hidden, nobody can see him and he’s safe. The original ostrich. I sat quietly holding Kidd and listening to the soothing sound of water running in this kitschy little Christmas village fountain. I’m not sure why it’s still Christmas here, but the sound was calming so maybe that’s the point. For all I know, it’s been Christmas here for years.

After a short wait, Dr. Specialist came in for the exam. He looked Kidd over from stem to stern and discussed his history with me. His suggestion was to start with x-rays to see if that would show anything, although most of the possible diagnoses would probably not be x-rayable.

The nice tech fetched Kidd again and whisked him away to parts unknown. I sat and again mindlessly and swiftly knit away on the basketweave socks. I hadn’t decided whether to go with a short-row heel (more “basket” looking) or a gusset-and-flap heel (more comfortable). At some point during the wait, I must have unconsciously decided to go with a short-row heel because I mindlessly and swiftly knit way past the point I should have started a gusset. I began to like the Christmas display.

Between the mindless knitting and the babbling Christmas fountain, I kept my cool pretty well, I think.

The x-rays were inconclusive. Except Kidd’s stomach appears distended for no visible reason. Certainly it’s not from eating. Dr. Specialist suggested as a next step an endoscopy, to see what’s really going on inside there. I have to drop Kidd off on Monday morning. The procedure will be done on Tuesday. The concern now, of course, is keeping Kidd alive until then.

Dr. Specialist handed me his card so I’d have his office number.

If you get in there and it’s really bad… I started to say, meaning to add please don’t let him wake up. But I couldn’t get that far.

Dr. Specialist said, In that case I’ll call you right away. I think he knew what I was trying to say. He took his card back from me, wrote on it, and then returned it. There’s my home number, he said. Call me directly if he gets into trouble over the weekend.

What a nice man, eh? I don’t think I’ve ever had a vet give me their home number before. Even my regular vet, who I love and who has taken care of my animals for 20 years, suggests Dove Lewis in an emergency.

I shook Dr. Specialist’s hand, thanked him sincerely, and said I’d have Kidd in first thing on Monday.

On the way home from work, I stopped at the store and stocked up on all of the Gerber baby meats I could find: Turkey, chicken, veal, beef, lamb… As far as I’m concerned, if that’s what Kidd wants to eat for the next two days, then that’s what he gets.

The pic is from happier times, last November. When I’m doing “computer stuff” at home, Kidd likes to either curl up under my desk at my feet or sit next to me on my bookshelf. Sometimes he lays on my desk, and runs his tail back and forth over the touch-pad I use instead of a mouse. The distance from the shelf he is sitting on to the shelf behind his head is 15″, so that gives you an idea of his size. He has to crouch to fit. He’s the tallest of my three cats, but not of course the heaviest. That distinction goes to Moo Cow.