Two steps up one step back.

Grady is responding to the tube feedings. This is good, because that means he's heading toward recovery, and bad, because this means he just squirms harder when he starts to get anxious. Trying to get the entire 50mL in him is hard work, and then there's the time it takes to add another 10mL of water to flush everything through.

This morning's feedings brought back the vocal Grady. He howled like a wolf at the full moon, making sure both paws were planted firmly on my chest and pushing. That's encouraging.

I learned quickly to have everything prepared and laid out on a tray before I even grab him, both for feeding and changing his dressings. By tomorrow I'm sure he will have learned that tray=uh-oh and get a little more aggressive.

It hasn't all been smooth sailing, though. On Saturday night he barfed quite a bit about an hour and a half after I gave him his antibiotics, and had dry heaves at 3a.m. Sunday night he barfed in his litterbox. Ew. "Gosh, the smell of poo triggered barf? No way!" (Ladies and gentlemen, my housemate, Ethan. He'll be here all week. Try the veal.) I will have to be a little more generous with the antinausea meds, it seems. I've been conservative about them, but according to my vet I don't have to.

I'm not sure how the rest of the week will go. Instead of three feedings I will only be able to give him two. This may help a little with the barfing and reduce his stress, so it can't be too bad.

The heat has already complicated things, and Monday is predicted to have a high of 90. I can manage temps up to the mid-80s, but anything over that and I'm at a loss. I've done everything but fill a big bowl full of ice and stick it in front of the fan.