It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane…It’s Chemo Boy!

Petey made it through is first chemo session “like a champ.” He even had a brief, illicit romance with a spider monkey named Ginger. They stared longingly at each other from cages across the hospital suite. Alas, it was not meant to be.

And all was right in his little Petey world for oh, about 12 hours.

There’s nothing like the sound of a cat screaming and wretching at 3:00 am to wake you right up. Suffice to say that Petey is not a good puker. He makes Chinese opera death wails to announce the impending yarkage. And then he tries to execute the simultaneous run-and-puke maneuver on the Persian carpet. Never on the hardwood.

All this, and the Russian judge still only gave him a 7 for technical difficulty, and a 3 for style.

We’ve spent the rest of the week struggling with eating. I have opened every variety of stinky gross cat food known to man. Zip, zilch, nada. Not a morsel would pass his lips.

Finally, we hit on London Broil with lots of meat juice. But just a teaspoon.

Now, we’re coming off a 3-day deli turkey bender (the turkey slices must be quartered, placed on a paper towel, and served to Le Petit Prince in the spot where the dry food bowl usually resides). It’s like living with Paris Hilton, only not quite as dumb.

What comes after the turkey? So far, it looks like tuna is in the lead. But, I’m still rooting for roast beef. That’s easier for me to stomach at 7:00 am.