Then, Monday afternoon, I caught him straining to urinate on the dog's bed. He has bladder stones. I KNOW this. I should've palpated his bladder when I first noticed the sluggishness. But I didn't. I snatched him up then and felt his abdomen. His bladder was HUGE. It was also rock hard. He didn't make a peep. That's highly unusual. Most blocked male cats I see at work are screaming their heads off. Their bladders hurt that badly. Archie never made a sound.
At any rate, he's at work now. He has a urinary catheter in place, and his urine is the color of cherry Kool-Aid. He is in acute renal failure secondary to obstruction. I'm hopeful that I caught it soon enough for it to be reversible. Hopeful that my slow-on-the-uptakeness has not caused him any permanent harm.
*Sigh* Why do the cobbler's kids always go barefoot?