Again with the death threats

Ariel was supposed to be spayed today. But when the doctors took her temperature, they found she had a fever. They ran blood tests and found elevated levels of protein.

Naturally, they went immediately to a diagnosis of FIP.

So, she's not being spayed today. And I got to spend a chunk of my afternoon crying my eyes out. Again.

I'll tell you what, though. In the last few months she's gained a pound (33% of her body weight!). She is perky and lively. Her fur is glossy and her breath as sweet as a kitty's breath is ever likely to be. I don't think she is fatally sick.

I made another appointment for the spay a month from now. We'll see how she does in the meantime.

If it turns out she does have FIP, eventually she'll develop some constellation of serious symptoms. If and when that happens, I will say goodbye to the best kitten in the world; I will not stand for her to suffer. But if she's just got some kind of intermittent low grade virus, well, we can and will live with that.

For now, I'm just trying to be grateful for her little furry self every day.