Let me put it this way: the vets are now calling me to see what's new with him.
He asks me for food about 15 times a day — no exaggeration; if anything, I'm understating his demands. But he usually just sits there looking at it and at me, because he can't smell it. Even though it's the same old kibble or Fancy Feast in the same old bowl he's been enjoying for a couple of years, if he can't smell it, it's suspect. So we're also syringe-feeding him. I also put a few very stinky, trashy treats on top of his food. He'll eat those and often get a few accidental nibbles of real food while he's at it.
I started giving him nose drops
Snalbert ponders the ambiguous nature of kibble. And,
yes, my kitchen is a disaster area; I'll explain in a later post.
Perfect timing, Snalbert. Three days ago, I threw out a pill bottle loaded with lysine that I'd carefully crushed two years ago, just after the kittens arrived and Bertie and Possum came down with the calici virus. Lysine isn't proven to help that, but they were both so ill that we were trying anything and everything. Three days ago, I thought to myself, "Why do I need to keep this? Only Bunny had herpes."
Good work, Snalbert — keeping me on my toes like the Top Cat you are.