Over 24 hours since the last barf. Fortiflora or time worked their magic on the kittens. This weekend, the go to a different foster, as I will be away Monday-Friday. Their manners are excellent now. Sometimes they even bury their litterbox business. I hope to get them back when I return. In another few weeks though, they’ll have their neutering and probably will be adopted quickly.
Nora did pass on. I’ve never had a cat that strong die at home before. She had problems with major organs but was otherwise in good shape, and not yet 12 years old. She had an odd upbringing. My mom adopted her before we realized my mom had started down the Alzheimer’s path. She named the cat “Blackie” after her previous cat, and expected her to act like a dog–to eat on command and such. She was able to keep the cat a while at assisted living, but was getting very odd about feeding: adding water to kibble that then sat around, bringing her bacon instead of feeding her cat food. Still, I hated to take away her cat. When Nora became “the cats that came with this place”, I did take her to my house and renamed her. She was very shy around people but then learned that even total strangers would brush her. She would lead them to the stand where I kept the brushes, I’d translate for Nora, and generally, the person would brush and Nora would be blissful.