Purina did good, but only for a day or two. Plato stopped eating again and keeps losing weight. He’s lighter than Dana now, especially because she gets to eat all the treats he won’t touch anymore.
I did some more research and, as much as I don’t want his possibly last days to be filled with hateful memories, it looks like force feeding is about my only option. And I remembered how much he loved kitten milk when he was little, so we went to the pet store and got milk, a baby bottle and a syringe I can use to stuff soft food down his throat. While we were there, we were admiring a very lively American shorthair kitten and the store guy asked me if I’d like to touch it. (Stupid question.) I picked it up and gave it a cuddle and it gave me the sweetest little purr I’ve ever heard. (Plato’s is sweet in a more literal way–pure chocolate syrup–but I haven’t heard it in a while.) Rochi looked stunned when the supplies came to nearly $50, so I said, “Yeah, but I just got to touch a $1500 cat.”
When we got home, I made Plato drink a serving of milk and so far at least he hasn’t barfed. We’ll see. I have hope.