Tonight we took our cat to the vets' for a check-up following her recently-diagnosed kidney problems, to see what they thought of her progress.
Thankfully, the vet was very happy with Millie’s obvious improvement, which was a relief, and said her keenness to eat her specially-proscribed - and often unpopular - food was a positive sign. She suggested we come back in the next few months so they can do a blood-pressure check and take a urine sample, but there was no rush to do this.
Millie herself was well-behaved and more inquisitive than nervous once we got her into the examination room. It was only when the vet started squeezing her bladder (the cat’s; not her own) that she shifted slightly from docile to wriggly, but who could blame her. Luckily this was at the very end of the appointment and she was back in her carrier and in the car almost as soon as we arrived.
She was a little complainy during the journey, but this wasn't something us hardened cat-owners couldn’t handle. Now she’s asleep on the sofa next to me. Not a bad end to a mostly sedentary day with only a tiny burst of activity to recover from; her snoring right now suggests she’s all right.