Ruff Day

   Today seemed like any normal Monday until I got home from work. I had a long list of to-dos for tonight, but they were not to be. I walked in the kitchen door and no dogs were there to greet me, which never ever happens, so I knew something was up. As I walked into the dining room and put my laptop down, Taylor ran up the stairs to get my attention, whined, and ran back downstairs. Aki was lying on the rug by the back door. She couldn't get up.

   My beloved Aki had inexplicably lost the use of her back legs & was having strange neurological signs (darting eyes, arched back, tense abdomen, intense muscle shakes), and was vomiting. I called the vet, warned them that I was on my way, scooped up Aki and flew out the door. She was so catatonic and so quiet the whole time that I was afraid she might die in the back of my car by the time we arrived.
   I spent three hours at the vet. While I waited for Dr. Miller to perform some tests, an older lady walked in cuddling a swaddled sweet, fat, charcoal-and-white spotted kitty. His face was puffy and round, with bright yellow eyes. He seemed alert, but quiet. The woman's daughter had driven her there. I could tell by their solemn faces that they were there to say good-bye to their kitty for the last time. As soon as I realized that, I couldn't bear to think about it. Aki is only four years old. She just HAS to have lots of life left.
   A few tests and hundreds of dollars later... inconclusive. They pretty much ruled out my biggest fears: poisoning, gastrointestinal blockage, or broken back, but not knowing the cause is still disconcerting. Just yesterday morning we jogged and walked at the park, then spent the entire day in the backyard together, and she was fine.
   By the time I left the vet, she was perkier and could stand, but she has great difficulty sitting and lying down, and often falls when she tries to do so. Her back legs are barely under control. Frankly, I'm scared of what tonight might bring, so any and all thoughts and prayers are much appreciated.