Earlier this evening, I spoke with his vet over the phone. She gave him some canned food for lunch, but he ate very little. He didn't drink water either. For dinner, she gave canned food again - mixed with some water this time. Stalin looked and sniffed at his food, as if wanting to devour it. But again, he didn't eat. He's now fast-drip on IV, so his body could catch up on all the nourishment lost.
Upon further examination, vet discovered excess plaque and tartar build-up on Stalin's teeth. According to her, this causes bacterial infection which could have led to Stalin's present condition. Although she's still not ruling out the initial diagnosis, I felt a glimmer of hope that it might not be leptospirosis at all. I told her to please, please, please do everything possible to keep Stalin comfortable and make him well. It will cost
I've been refrained from visiting the clinic, because it might stress Stalin out once he sees me walk away. It's a bummer, but at the same time a relief - I might break down if I see him hooked to an IV and all. I have faith though, that Stalin is strong enough to win this battle. After all, I named him after one of the greatest revolutionaries of all time.
|Stalin at five months old.|
I'm not a very religious person, but I never forget to say my prayers before going to bed. The past few nights, I've been praying so hard. Tonight, and all the succeeding nights, I will be praying my hardest. Times like these, I call on my beloved Saint Rita, patron saint of the impossible.
Sharing with 366 and Mom and Me.