Hence I panic.
Fortunately, I was working from home today, so I effectively took a lunch at 11:00 to drive Kiwi to the vet. His stomach was a little taught and "doughy" as the vet put it, but his temp was good, and by that time he was eating. Vet suggested I try feeding Kiwi "Critical Care" with a syringe (yeah, that'll work...little punk winds up getting it all down his chin) and barring that, offer lots of hay and papaya and pineapple. Well, Kiwi's been a little eating machine all day, I've practically been forcing hay in front of him since noon, and just generally hovering.
And yet I'm still paranoid. You know how some folks dote on their children, or their cats? I'm like that with the bunnies. So even though my mom's aunt will be popping in to check on the buns during the day tomorrow and on Sunday morning, I'm still worried that something will go wrong and Kiwi will take a turn for the worse while I'm on the other side of Lake Michigan.
Speak comfort to me, Friends List! Assuage my jangled nerves! Is there balm in Gilead? Can Tiny Tim yet be saved?