I did not realize how attached I have become to the little black furball until I sat there in the vet's office, waiting to get the results of his bloodwork today. I sat there and watched him play in his carrier, listened to him talk to me, and realized if Dr. Stoner came out and said it was positive, especially for feline AIDS, I would have been crushed. I realized, too, that Buddah already identifies me as his mother-figure; the vet took him from me and he reached those little paws out, let out a tiny "mew", and looked at me like a little boy saying "Mommy." I damn near melted.

It was negative for both leukemia and AIDS. Buddah can stay. Max might not like that, but after he feels better he'll get used to it.

We wound up taking Max in this morning; he started out the day at 6 a.m. with the runs, and by 7:15 he was barfing. Mike was sure--and the vet agreed--that it's the antibiotics upsetting his system. So he's off them for now, and will most likely stay off them.

Once we got home he slinked into my closet, where he's been curled up ever since. I mentioned that to the doc when I took Buddah in, and he thinks it's a good thing. When you feel like total crap, sometimes you just want to be alone and sleep it off. Kind of like me.

So. We get Max healthy, and they can get used to each other and learn to co-exist. With the exception of how crappy Max feels right now, all is well in our little world. And sooner or later I’ll stop inundating the world with cat updates. But anyone who’s been lurking on my blog for any length of time knows how preoccupied I can get when my pets are ill.

I appreciate all the well wishes and mojo. Max still needs them. I’m sure he’ll be fine, but just in case…

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