Last year as we celebrated Whisky's birthday I was pretty sure he wouldn't see another one. With the recurring infections in his eye and upper respiratory tract and the diminishing effectiveness of indicated antibiotics, his rubbish immune system, his ability to find new and exciting ways to fall off furniture, I really couldn't see him reaching eight years old. But, through a combination of his indomitable spirit and the skills and experience of his vet, we made it through this last year. My little boy is eight years old this month.
So of course, this is a special week. When I see him racing round the garden at high speed lost in his own little world of fun, it is amazing to think this was the same little guy that one vet on an emergency visit four years ago told me was running out of options. My thoughts the last few days have been all about this little fluffy miracle that lives in my house, brightening up my days and making sure there's laughter in every single one.
When I arrived home yesterday, looking forward to spending a fun and celebratory evening with Whisky, I found him looking and acting unwell. Although the longer days (and possibly the drowsiness of his morning anti-allergy meds) had recently shifted his appetite for a full dinner to later in the evening, this was very different. He barely reacted to my presence and had no interest in food. Hours of drama and anxiety followed, but after some pain relief and gut motility medicines he eventually started to pick up, at least enough for me to get some sleep.
This morning as I was examining the evidence of last nights problems in the odd shapes and sizes of his overnight poo, he head-butted me repeatedly to "stop messing around and get with the breakfast". He then scoffed all his veg and left a nice pile of regular looking poos in his litter tray as if nothing had happened.
Whisky saw his magic vet today, but there were no indications as to what had caused yesterdays illness. From what clues we have we are guessing it was triggered by a flare up of pain and/or congestion from his existing health problems bringing him down. We also came away with a bottle of ear cleaner to remove some waxy buildup and I swear Whisky put two and two together on that because he hates ear things and has been enthusiastically keeping out of my reach since we got back. ("Put the snacks on the plate and back away!")
Well anyway, that has been my stress for the last 24 hours or so, but I am hoping normal service will resume tomorrow. Goodnight bunny friends!