Feline of the Apocalypse

After a tense week it appears that my grumpy old man in a fur coat (aka Ski) will pull thru. I finally had to get some pills to stimulate his appetite - he'd sniff the bowl but not eat. He got as gaunt as Don Quixote's noble steed. And more than a bit wobbly. The other two have been giving him the 'you're strange, there's something wrong with you' sniffs & stares...

I could have taken him to the vet for an IV, but that would be just as likely to push him over the edge - it stresses him so much. And offends his 'dignity,' which is very important to him.

So I've coaxed and coddled and today he's eaten a decent amount for a convalescent old fart. I don't think I have to say goodbye yet.