This is the question I'd want answered before anything else, so here it is on its own.
No — and I'll tell you exactly what I mean by that. Cognitive decline isn't a light switch; it's a slope. What you're doing isn't reversing it. You're changing the angle of the slope from today forward — slowing how fast her brain ages, and protecting every connection she still has.
And I want you to think about what those connections actually are. Because in the consult room we call them synapses. In your house they have different names.
The connection that makes her come running at the sound of the treat drawer — the one she learned at eight weeks old, the first week she lived with you. The connection that knows the exact spot on your lap she claimed the winter you were sick and couldn't get off the couch. The one that turns her around when you say her name. The one that tells her the warm dip in the bed at 6am is you, and that you're safe, and that she's home.
Those are the things she's losing when she stands in the hallway at 3am. Not memory in the abstract. You. Twelve, fourteen, sixteen years of you, stored in tissue that is being quietly remodelled every month nobody supports it.
I've sat with owners at the end who'd give anything for one more evening of their cat curled on their chest, purring, knowing exactly whose chest it was. You still have that. She still finds your lap. She still knows your voice most of the time. That's not the sign that it's too late. That's the sign that there's still something worth protecting — and that the window is now.
A cat at fourteen has more to protect than a cat at seventeen. That's the only argument for starting now rather than in six months. It's also the whole argument.
And if it's her kidneys, not her brain? Then you've still made the right call. The omega-3s in this pack are the same ones your vet would reach for on a kidney diagnosis. Whichever it turns out to be, she's covered — and you're not choosing between them.