Change is, they say, inevitable. Sometimes good, sometimes bad.
When change walks hand in hand with aging, the bad claws at the good.
In a matter of days, we watched Uncle Keaks wither. One moment robust. The next, shrinking in body and spirit. In the same short span of time, Tiggy started fading like a shadow falling into dusk.
The Nip Patch became a Geriatrics Ward.
Many trips to the vet. Repeated blood work. Needles and insulin for Tiggy. Pink pills crushed and liquefied, syringed into Uncle Keaks. Medications twice a day. All in an attempt to stave off what appeared to be the inevitable; to bend change to our will.
We walked along side this new reality for many weeks. The way of progress painfully slow. The guilt of not truly seeing the bad changes sooner bubbling up. We asked for your purrs. And you sent them. You have our gratitude.
One day at a time, the healing increased. Tiggy, lame in the hind legs with a raging blood sugar, began to walk on his toes again. His muscles grew strong. Once again, jumping was possible. Last month, he ran and chased Penelope for the first time!
Tiggy is wrestling again. Of course, he still loses to Moi. But in the ring with Penelope, our little sister, he triumphs.
The grand patriarch, Uncles Keaks, is back to plowing through his food. His thyroid is under control. He has gained back two pounds. In less than a month, the medication will cease. He plays, purrs, walks in the garden. His yellow eyes glow. His mancatliness untarnished!
We embrace this good change and hold it, ever so tight.
