No, not the v*t - our aged calico cat, Ted.

Ted is now 18-and-a-bit years old and has been diabetic since she was
12 or so.  She is also very arthitic, completely toothless, somewhat
deaf and quite blind.  An old cat, but any description, who sleeps
most of the day.

Ted looks to DH - they have a special bond.  She pretty-much ignores
everyone else, unless there is food in the offing.  To everyone else
she is the most cussed, cross-patched piece of bawling streetcat you
ever did see.  She grew up in a household of batchelors and learnt to
swear from them.  Boy, did she learn good!  She was very proud of
having a "dangerous animal" tag on her file at the v*t.  

Two or three times each year Ted has us convinced that her end is near
and we start to mentally prepare ourselves to do the Difficult Thing.
Each time this happens, she waits an appropriate amount of time for
the tension to build to an uncomfortable level, then makes a
"miraculous" recovery.  Methinks she's testing her considerable
ability to manipulate us.

This last couple of weeks was no exception.  Ted was acting nice.
Really sweet - no cussin', no attempting to rip our bloody throats
out; she even gave up her plans for world domination.  We were
suspicious and, once again, started to think the worst.  You see, last
time Ted was nice was just before she was diagnosed with diabetes and
she was, in fact, very sick.  Ted being nice made us think that she
was very sick again.  Last time we had her bloods worked up at the
v*t,  he indicated that she had the beginnings of kidney failure, so
we thought that this might now have become an issue.  We watched her
carefully; adjusted her insulin, monitored her litterbox habits and
water uptake.  We started to be sad and to prepare ourselves for the
worst.  Dave gave her lots of cuddles and special little treats
(within her dietary regime).  After all, she's over 18 and is unwell.

Dave pulled the short straw and, with a heavy heart, took her to the
vet for a whole-day of blood monitoring (to get a range of glucose
levels).  We sat - him at home and me at work, for a whole day, being
distracted and thinking about our furry matriarch.  

It was with considerable tension that Dave re-appeared at the v*t in
the evening for a report on our Old Lady's status. He had prepared
himself to make the Ultimate Decision if it was necessary to save Ted
from pain.

It took an hour or two for what the v*t had said to sink in.  You see,
Ted has done it again.  She is in sparkling good health for a cat of
her age and her kidney values (createnine etc) are better than they
have been for years.  Yep, our Ted is going to continue with her
long-term plans for world domination and is determinedly going to hang
around for quite a while yet.  The v*t found the problem - age has
meant that she no longer responds to / metabolizes the insulin as
efficiently as she used to, so we have halved her dosage and she has
perked up (grumped up) to her former level.

Amazing Ted.  Long may she live.

Tish