Another day draws to a close. I still have seven cats. This is a good thing.

Another long day away from home. As I sat at work, looking at the photos on my desk of all the cats, my heart sank. I could not bear to look at them. Most of cats are posed with their belly facing the sky, looking relaxed and happy. Gracie is being spooned by her daughter, Petunia. They are both blue-grey with sparkling eyes. Gracie's fur looks exotic and plush-ahh...if they could see her today, with shaved clumps for a coat and a depressed look in those once brilliant green eyes.

It tears me apart to see how miserable they are. Every struggle I can feel. Every cough or sneeze makes me stiffen with anxiety.

Last night was too short. I slept little on an empty stomach. I was too wiped out to bother eating and since I had Spencer and Bob on my side of the bed, I figured I'd try to sleep without moving them because I wanted them to stay in the bed with me all night. Bob stayed. Spencer moved to sleeping/hiding under the bed. Normally, he'd lay right under my outstretched left arm and purr loudly. It was an effort for him to breathe at all. His mouth would drop open to allow him to catch a breath. Instead of wheezing, as he usually does, he was quiet, because his sinuses must be loaded with mucus.

This morning I decided to go to work a bit late and I ended up talking to Debbie about what to do..bring Bob and Spencer in to the Vet? I really wanted to take them, but I realized, too, that Spencer would stress out A LOT and his breathing would be much worse. Same could be said for Bob, so I decided to keep them home, go to work and hope to God I wasn't making a BIG mistake.

There is a time for me to simply witness their suffering, be compassionate and loving, treat their illness as best I can, but do no more. A trip to the Vet could do worse to them, than help them, then fall into a vicious cycle of over treatments or shuttling them back and forth for more visits that would keep them from getting the rest they need to heal.

Sure, I know they're not human, but I still think it's true that if they feel like shit, then they should rest, be comfy, have those fluids available and get to eat junk food-which, I'm reluctant to say, they're getting. At least they continue to eat, so I just gotta suck it up, keep a watchful eye on them and hope I'm making good choices.

Time will tell.