Nothing worked.
What followed was a marvel of miniature veterinary medicine. Dr. Lian held Mochi gently but firmly, while a technician tilted his head back. She took a tiny, blunt cannula—no bigger than an eyelash—attached to a saline-filled syringe. With a single, delicate motion, she inserted it into the pinhead-sized opening at the inner corner of Mochi’s eye. blocked tear ducts in cats
The stains remained. Sophie stopped fighting them. She switched to a stainless steel water bowl (less bacteria), added a lysine supplement to his food (just in case), and accepted that her white Persian would always look like he’d been crying over a romance novel. Nothing worked
Mochi, unbothered, blinked slowly. His right eye was clear and bright, a perfect amber marble. But the left one wept a constant, silent tear that matted the white fur around it into a brownish crust. She’d wipe it away with a warm cloth, and within an hour, the stain would be back. Lian held Mochi gently but firmly, while a
Sophie smiled and shook her head. “Nope. He’s just got a little plumbing issue.”
She laughed and scratched behind his ears. “You’re not broken,” she whispered. “You just feel things more than other cats.”
Sophie held her breath.
