Melma's not well.

I don't know what to do. She did a gigantic shit earlier, then sort of waddled off into the kitchen. She keeps trying to piss, but she can't, just yellowish blood comes out. I can see her struggling, trying to get the wee out. There's so much pain in her eyes.

I'd drive her to a night vet, but there's only the university one and it's so far away. Dad would never do that, and I think the trip would kill her feeble old heart. I want to help her so badly. I want her to be out of pain.

My dearest little Melma-hey. Always a smile for me when I open the back door. Always eager for attention and loving that everyone knows who she is.

I'm praying for her. I'm praying for a gentle sweet embrace from God. She's 18-19 years old, and has been a vital part of our family for all that time. She deserves that at least.

Cautiously optimistic...

Well, I got up to find that Melma had taken a big pee in the middle of the kitchen floor. Normally this would make me quite irritated but today I was in paroxyms of joy. It was healthy, pale, normal coloured cat pee and it smelt exactly as cat pee should. Melma was sitting next to it, looking up at me, obviously waiting for the "Melmaaaa! The litter tray!" Instead I was all, "GOOD GIRL, MELMA! GOOD GOOD GIRL!"

I'm watching her this morning and praying she continues. I want to take her to the vet but she's so old and frail I'm scared that'd just make her worse.

This cat is always causing me problems. She's so sweet though, it's worth every penny, sheen of sweat and heavy tear.

Melma: Too Remarkable.

Okay. So we get her to the vet. Vet guy (TOTALLY HOT VET GUY) checks her over. He says that her kidneys are shrivelled, as is expected at a cat at her advanced age, and that her bladder is lumpy, and said that he could do a whole bevvy of tests for stuff that is essentially pallative - in other words, a big fuss and nonsense to keep her alive probably longer than she'd actually want to be. She's not in any pain now, is resting happily in the kitchen and we're tending to her every need. Pats, food, water, love. Prayers, too.

Melma, in true style, will not have a scrabble for death at the hands of a needle. Nope. She's going to slowly coast to the rainbow bridge on her own steam. We're putting her on a course of antibiotics in case that makes the bladder behave better. Cause there's nothing worse than pissing on yourself.

I am so tired. This has totally put my mental problems on the back-burner for a bit, I think. All I want to do is sleep!!