First, we want to extend our deepest sympathies to Random Felines in the loss of their tiny foster boy, Trillium.
Yesterday, Toby was rushed off to the vet because of almost-heatstroke. I found him in the attic after a repairman left, his paws and forelegs covered in sweat, panting, and not wanting to come to me. They gave him fluids and monitored him for the afternoon. I was told that when I went to pick him up, there was difficulty in getting him out of the cage. He wanted to take off their faces at that point.
Had I not been home that day because I wasn't feeling well, had it just been my landlord waiting with the repairman, this would have been a very different post. When he got home, he kept walking around, totally stressed, panting. Eventually he calmed down and wanted me to cuddle him.
And poor Leia STILL has no idea what all the fuss was about!
** PS: Toby is now banned from the attic. I expect some protesting of this executive decision.
PPS: I killed my car battery getting him to the vet as soon as possible. I rushed in and... was emotional, let us say. This was not "put me in line and I'll wait". This was RIGHT NOW!!!!