It's hot in my office. Hot, hot, hot. The cats and I are inert puddles. Zoe is splayed belly-up to the right of my keyboard.

So far, I've only seen one incident where Zoe was showing aggression and that was against Jetta. I broke that up and am keeping a close eye on how Zoe's doing on the lower dose of tranks.

Pippin gave Randy a bite while Randy was trying to work out the mats that are forming on Pippin's hindquarters where he's too fat to groom himself. Pippy hates having anyone comb back there. Not a bad bite, nothing serious, but we're debating the best way to deal with his matted fur problem in the face of that resistance.

Saffy managed to get herself locked inside the walk-in closet for a few hours today, the silly twit. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten hot in there by the time I accidentally discovered where she was.

Here's what I need for Pippin. Think I could get him to use one? (laughing hysterically)

Pippin's visit to the vet was mainly in order to get a refill on his prescription for the diet food. He got a general check-up and was pronounced a fine, healthy, big, fat cat. The vet took a look at the previous blood count readings and didn't think there was anything there to worry about, so Pippin escaped the needle this time. No blood work.

I began reducing Zoe's dosage of amitriptylene after Kate died. You never know what subtle shifts can occur in cat relationships when the composition of moggies changes. So far, so good. Tosca seems happy and outgoing. I haven't seen signs of trouble yet. Let's hope it holds.

It's a lifesaver to have other loving moggies around when you lose a dear one. Tosca and Zoe have been highly attentive. Jetta is doing her part, too, though not to the same degree. Jetta's favorite thing is being perched in the highest spot she can find in the office. I put a piece of cat furniture on top of a large filing cabinet and she loves to curl up in the little catbed way at the top of that. That puts her about nine feet up, a good place to keep an eye on everything.

Pippin weighs in at 21.5. We had gotten him to down to 21.4 in March, but he gained weight while we were gone on vacation and went up to 21.10. He goes to the vet this Tues. for a check-up and to see whether his red blood cell count remains abnormally high. If it is, we're contemplating taking him to the vet school at UC Davis, which is renowned for dealing with unusual animal problems. We suspect he has some other underlying problem that hasn't been found yet, possibly something that interferes with his nasal passages, like a deviated septum. We're theorizing as to why it's hard to get him to exercise or be active, which would help with getting his weight down.

Moggy-lover Alex Burr sent me this link back in Jan. It got buried in my email queue, but the link still works and it's a delightful moment. A cat wanders onto the set while a German weatherman is delivering the forecast.

It feels a little emptier without Kate around. It's quieter, too, because she used to pace restlessly back and forth across my desk as I was preparing the canned food. She was too anxious to stand still and wait.

Tosca has been especially attentive to me since yesterday. She's spending more time on my desk. I think she must have been deferring to Kate before. Meanwhile, Zoe has decided she likes the catbed that Kate used to sleep in. That's where she's curled up now, giving herself a bath.

Kate c. 18 April 1991 to 16 June 2009

Last night, I set up the crate for Kate with a small cat box, water, food and moved her in the bed into it. When I came out this morning, she hadn't moved at all. She didn't touch the food or water and had no strength to get up to use the cat box -- she urinated in the bed. Both the bed and she were drenched. I transferred her to clean towel and carefully cleaned her up. She could barely stand.

It was clear she wouldn't eat on her own. I mixed up baby food with some warm water and syringe-fed her. She didn't really want it, but I fed her about three syringe-fulls. I talked to the vet who didn't like the sound of things anymore than I did. I left Kate in a new bed in the crate when I went to work.

When I came home at noon, it was obvious to me that Kate had reached a crisis point. She was barely responsive and hadn't moved at all. The second bed and towel were covered with urine. I transferred her to another clean towel in the bottom half of my large carrier and called to alert the vet that I was bringing her in. He kindly stayed at the office even though he had been about to leave and even though he could have left it to another vet at the clinic.

I frankly thought that was the end. I'd already caressed her at home and mentally said my good-byes. I was crying by the time I got to the vet's. He recommended that we at least try fluids for 24 hours to see if she could pull out of the crisis. Her blood work had not indicated any reason for such a severe crash, but at her age it's hard to be sure what's going on.

At around 3:15, the vet called me at work to say that she had died. She'd had just enough energy left to give him a growl when they did the fluids, but shortly after that her heart slowed down and she passed on. It sounds as though it was quick and peaceful, though it grieves me that I couldn't have been there with her.

There's another sense of passing involved with losing Kate --- she was the only cat named by my late husband, Peter Ledger. He complained that I got to name all the cats, so I let him name this girl and what he came up with was Kate. She's the last cat I had who was alive when Peter was alive.

Kate was eager for her canned food this morning, but five minutes later she threw up all of it. I got lucky. The vet was able to take her in immediately and by 9:15 I was there with my unhappy girl. The vet thinks it's most likely a bowel problem as her intestines were packed with some hard stuff. I had to leave her there for some blood work and an enema. In a few days, we'll start her on Prednisone again. In the meantime, I need to keep her on baby food and some special bland canned food.

I picked Kate up around 1:30. When I opened the carrier back at home, she didn't budge from it. That's the opposite of her usual pattern. I had to get to work and I didn't want to force the issue, so I made sure the door was propped open in a way that she couldn't be trapped inside and left her to come out on her own.

When I got home from work, Kate was asleep in her bed and Zoe was sleeping in the carrier! Kate's not doing well. The whole process took a heavy toll on her. She has no energy to move. I tried putting baby food literally under her nose, but she won't touch it. I guess it's better for her to sleep it off, but I'm worried about the food situation. The vet didn't want her to have dry food for a couple of days. I'm thinking I might set up the large dog crate for her tonight and leave baby food out for her where the other cats can't get to it.

Poor old girl. This feels like one of those cases where the cure was as bad as the disease.

I've been cleaning up a lot of vomit today. I found four places to clean up including one large pile of canned cat food. Later in the day, I caught Kate throwing up and I've found a couple more spots to clean up since. That's a lot of throwing up in one day. I suspect it's all from Kate, so there may be a visit to the vet in her immediate future.

I also ran into a problem trying to buy more of Pippin's prescription diet food at Petsmart. The prescription had expired. I have to go back to the vet for that, too. What sort of idiocy calls for a prescription for cat food? You'd think I was trying to get medical marijuana or something. Yeesh.

Anyway, we've been wanting to have Pippin's blood work done again to see if his red blood count is still super-high. I'm sure the vet was missing our money, but there's some coming his way soon. ;P

Last time I took Kate to the vet, he clipped her claws for me. They'd grown so much, a couple of them had curled around into her feet. I noticed recently that she's been getting her claws caught slightly in the carpet as she walks, a sure sign they need to be clipped.

I can't tell you how much fun it is trying to clip her claws. She hates it with a passion. She squirms and fights and cusses at me as best she can. I did finally manage to get both front feet and it was a good thing because one of them was at the point of curling back into her foot again. She wasn't happy with me, though, I'll tell you that. Not at the time, anyway. At the moment, she's back to being a lapfungus.

There was another round of work on the computer that resulted in having to go back and reinstall all the programs I had just painstakingly installed before. It's going faster this time, partly because I already know what to expect. The system should theoretically be stable and set this time around.

Jetta managed to find a box that had Styromfoam peanuts in it, knock it off the high shelf it was on and help herself to the new toys. I didn't have too many of them to clean up, but Jetta shares that water-dunking gene with her sisters, so I found two peanuts floating in the water bowl.

Kate's appetite is waning again. She's eating pretty well, though she remains too thin, but she's not finishing off her portion of soft food. I've also had more trouble getting her to show interest in her treats. This is hardly surprising for a cat her age, but I'm thinking of taking her to the vet to see if he'd be willing to do another round of Prednisone. That helped her for a long time after the last treatment.

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