No, Tobi the cat isn’t cured of cancer, but he has pretty much rebounded to his old self. For now. After a few days of not eating and laying around with a totally spaced out, checked out look in his eyes, he’s almost acting spry. Like he’s acting all nosy, sticking his head in the refrigerator every time it’s opened, just like he’s always done. Like he’s standing on his hind legs to peek up at the table and survey the spread when we’re all sitting down to dinner. He’s even batting at random dust bunnies or snippets of string that he spots from the corner of his eye as he walks by. He’s still skinny. He still doesn’t eat like he used to. But he is eating.
Um, yeah, so I don’t really know what’s going on, but we’re real happy that he appears to feel better right now, especially since I just about declared him on death’s door 2 weekends ago. He even got a little testy with me when I tried to scratch his head the other day as if he was all, “I’m back, bitches!”. Dude, I shed real tears for you. Don’t scratch me. Cats are so weird.