My day starts at 7:00am sitting on the floor with cat food Yuk in my hand, begging my beloved kitty to eat. I plead and plead, finding I go between telling her she is so loved and I want her to live longer to I hate you and if you don't want to eat, than I will kill you myself.
With each choice -- she rejects several -- I finally get her to eat a bit of one. At that point, I have yuk in my fingers and yuk on the floor. Her brother is walking back and forth knowing that if she doesn't eat, he will reap the benefits of what she has rejected.
Then I email our vet -- love the guy because he gave me his email. I tell him that if we can't solve this soon, I will go through several cases of wine and probably a bottle or two of scotch.
We are caught in a loop. She has a thyroid issue -- hyperthyroidism -- that has to be under control before we can deal with her eating issue -- which is more related to needing a good dental intervention. She does try to eat, but something in her mouth hurts, so when she tries to chew, she stops, her paw touches her mouth, she gets frustrated and stops.
However, apparently, they can't put her under to do the dental cleaning until the thyroid issue is controlled, which means she has to eat. She can't eat because something in her mouth hurts.
Finally tonight I figured out that if I mush her food -- making it easier for her to eat if she doesn't have to chew -- she eats a little. For how long, I don't know.
I truly love this little girl, and it kills me that she has taken to climbing in my lap, just like she did as a kitten but hasn't done for a few years and looks to me as if to say -- figure this out, take care of me, and please, please, do it quickly.