We are still at the Elks lodge in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, having decided shortly after my last post to just extend our stay through the holiday weekend. We had a nice, traditional turkey dinner with all the fixings at, of all places, a sports bar downtown called Fokker's. Several "nicer" places were also offering a Thanksgiving meal, but most seemed to stop at 3pm, and we wanted to eat our big meal later than that -- Fokker's served until 8.
An unexpected bonus of having stayed here through the weekend is that our new friends Vicki and Norm aboard Tide Hiker, whom we met in Mobile, stopped last night at the city dock downtown. We made plans to meet them there and walk to any of the half dozen or so decent places within a few blocks of the dock.
Staying overnight at the city dock requires permission from the city manager, or, when city hall is closed, the police department. While they were securing permission to stay, the police recommended they not leave the boat unattended at any time, and so we ended up ordering Chinese carry-out from the joint across the street and eating aboard instead -- it was a very pleasant evening.
We've also gotten some more projects done around the house, including changing the oil on my scooter and selling a bunch of stuff on eBay, but the big news around here and overshadowing all else is that our cat Angel does not seem to be improving. We've been giving her 100cc of subcutaneous ringers lactate every day to keep her hydrated, as she does not seem to be drinking, and we've had to tempt her with canned tuna to get her to eat anything at all.
We've paid up here through tomorrow, and after breakfast we will head east to Destin, where there is a Petsmart with a Banfield veterinarian. We want to get another opinion on what is ailing her, and we were able to get an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Depending on how long we are at the vet, we will either spend the night at the state park there in Destin, or continue on to Panama City.
Poor Angel.
ReplyDeleteSeventeen years can be a lot of years for a cat, and I knew of one who lived to the ripe old age of 22. Just the same, some of the decisions become increasingly difficult as pets begin to age.
"Our" cat (really my daughter's cat, but he adopted me for a time) started to show some bad signs about a month ago. He was 14. There wasn't much that could be done except to shorten his suffering.
I wish you the best of luck in whatever decision you may have to take.
@Bob: Angel is only 10 years old; it's Opal the dog that is older, 15 years. So in cat years, I think she is about as old as I am...
ReplyDeleteD'oh! Took me a couple minutes to figure out where I got the 17 years from. Turns out it was from another commenter.
ReplyDeleteGeez Louise, sorry 'bout that. My apologies to Angel, I hope she'll accept them. Bad enough to even mention a lady's age, but then to get it so wrong?
Hell, 10 is nothing!
Apparently though I seem to be showing MY age?
*sigh*