A Trip to Sacramento and Shrinking Cat

On Sunday morning, after about five hours’ sleep, I ate the best mango I’ve ever had and then Tom and I left to take the train to Sacramento, where it was not overly hot, though it was kind of oven-like by the late afternoon, when we came home again. As always, we walked to BART, took BART to the Embarcadero, walked to the Amtrak station, bought tickets, took the bus to Emeryville and then got on the train.

We ran into Tom’s niece at the Amtrak station, on her way to the same event, and sat with her on the train, which was fun.

In Sacramento, Tom’s brother Paul picked us up and took us to Steve and Julie’s; the occasion was Paul and Steve’s birthdays. Here’s who was there, for my New York reader: Paul, Eva, Sarah, Steve, Julie, John Febbo (sp?), Dave Clark, Dan, Tom and I, and Melinda, Jim and Abby, the latter in a short red pleated skirt. Abby, who is the world’s cutest kid and who has been known to make some extremely witty remarks, spent much of the time reading. Jim joked that they were going to try to break the habit before it really takes hold.

The last time I saw John F., he described saying to his doctor that he was so however tall, or used to be that tall: “If you don’t believe me, check my online dating profile.”

When we sang happy birthday, people were saying “dear Paul and Steve” or “dear Steve and Paul.” Steve paused there and repeated loudly, to make sure everyone got the order right, “Steve and Paul—Steve and Paul.”

On the train coming back, Tom and I were seated across from a young feller who was reading The Princess Diaries. I’d recently heard the Kitchen Sisters on public radio explaining how to engage strangers in conversation, which I’m not bad at to begin with, and thought I’d try a technique or two. I thought of asking if he liked the book, but he might just say “Yes” or “No” and that would be the end of the conversation, so I said, “What do you think of that book so far?” and he said that he has a reading disorder and can’t remember anything he reads, and that it was the first book he’d ever read in his life (he is just starting ninth grade); he said he listens to books on tape.

We ended up having a riveting discussion all the way to Tom’s and my stop. He was exceedingly personable.

As mentioned, for years Thelonious ate dry food, but when she was taking antibiotics in the past several weeks, I had to give them to her in wet food, and after the antibiotics were done, she decided she was the kind of cat who ate only wet food, so her (that is, my) food bill went up dramatically.

Now she’s on Prednisone, which is a pill, and I’ve been giving her a fish treat after each one. She dislikes being given the pill, yet each day when I sit down on the bed with the pill shooter, she comes right over. She remembers that something exciting is going to happen; she just doesn’t seem to remember it’s something she doesn’t like until it’s underway.

After a week or so of the pills and the fish treats, I noticed she was eating less again and realized she was on the verge of deciding that, in fact, she’s the kind of cat who eats only fish treats, so I stopped giving her the treats, as it will not be good if she stops eating her real food. Fortunately, she didn’t seem particularly upset.

I took her to the vet today to be weighed. I was positive they were going to say she’d gained several ounces, or at the very least that she was holding steady. I couldn’t believe it when Dr. Press said she’d lost five more ounces, down to seven pounds and 10 ounces. Today was the first time Dr. Press mentioned the possibility that the treatment will fail.

If it does work, he said she would need to be Prednisone for the rest of her life. He said it’s not going to cure her condition, but can possibly control it. She doesn’t seem unhappy, so I’ll just keep giving her the Prednisone and I’ll take her to be weighed again in a couple of weeks.

Before I left for work, I watched her walk up to a plate of wet food, lick the surface of the food and walk away.

Three good things happened after I got to work: First, I found out that a mistake I’d made last week at work was completely fixable. Second, I got an entirely friendly response from the building manager saying she’d make sure the neighbors are aware it’s not OK to smoke in the trash area. Third, I got to go out to lunch at Buca di Beppo with a very congenial group and the corporate entity we all work for paid for it.