They Put The Thermometer WHERE???

When you go to the vet and there is nowhere to hide, sometimes someone lets you sit in the sink and gives you a blankie to cover yourself.

Poor Cruz, I think he felt violated. 

My Bodyguard

Bet you didn't know I had a bodyguard! Not that I need one or anything, but I certainly have one, at least at home. He precedes me down any hallway, into any room, walking at a slow, watchful pace, no doubt to check for any intruders or danger ahead. Of course, that means I sometimes end up saying "Excuse me, excuse me" hoping to get through or even pass him. And of course, it also means I sometimes trip over him.

Entirely my fault. I should be more aware of my bodyguard, he is only trying to keep me safe and sound in my home. He is very diligent too, sometimes he finds the highest place he can find to observe what is happening wherever I am, but also to get a look outside as well. We know danger can come at any moment from anywhere.

His name is Cruz. He protects. He is my bodyguard. 

Does Your Cat Do This??

No, I don't sleep with my glasses on.  But I do
need them to take a picture!

Emmett loves me.  I know this.  He has turned out to be a scaredy cat, spends a lot of time under my bed or out in the living room if I am home, but not if anyone is visiting.

At night he believes he is Casanova.  Or something.  He climbs on my head and sucks on my hair.  He licks my face and tries to lick inside my nose. No, not allowed, Emmett. He flops his whole body across my neck or worse - my face, sometimes waking me up by not allowing me to breathe!

Yes, he loves me.  I know he's trying to love on me.  Or something.  But it's really hard to get any sleep with him around.  People suggest locking him out of my room at night.  For a while I wore little caps to bed to keep him away from my hair.

But the problem is, while I'm pushing him away .. while I'm whining at him to stop .. while I'm moving him so I can breathe .. I am smiling.

Because yes, Emmett loves me.  And this is the way he shows me.

Let me tell you about Meatloaf (also known as Moose, Tank, and Mr. McFloofy-Pants)

No, not the food - Meatloaf is a cat.  He is my foster cat and he is lovely.

Even when I used to write regularly, I never had a big readership here.  But now since I write once or twice a YEAR, I can expect 2 or 3 people to MAYBE read what I post.  For Meatloafs sake, I wish I had one of those fabulously popular blogs where all I had to do was post something and a cause would go viral.

Alas, that isn't my blog.  But I'm going to talk about Meatloaf anyway.  Because I love him!

Meatloaf was living in a rabbit hutch on a chicken farm in Kentucky when a young girl saw him.  She had just seen an animal advocate who had come to her school to teach the kids about how to take care of and value animals.  When she saw Meatloafs situation she knew it was wrong.  She called the rescue group the woman who came to her school was associated with, and they sent someone out. The woman had to call the police twice to get them to come out and allow her to remove Meatloaf from the property.

Meatloaf had open sores all over his body.  He had bad eye infections, an upper respiratory infection, and was infested with fleas and mites.  The people who "owned" him, had no reason for why he was in the rabbit hutch and exposed to the elements.  They came up with various stories about how he got in the shape he was in.  He was hit by a car.  He was attacked by a dog.  But most likely - he was simply neglected and abused.  His sores were from his own scratching and infections were from neglect.

By the time Meatloaf was transported to the Chicago area where he came into my home, most of his fleas were gone, but he still had open sores and a horrible case of ear mites.  His upper respiratory infection was not completely gone and I was still putting meds into his eyes.  He needed a lot of TLC. I was scared when I first saw him, I'm not a nurse and had never taken care of a cat with bloody sores and being so ill.  What if he didn't want me to touch his wounds?  What if he was too much for me?

There were drops for his ears, ointment for his eyes, sterile cotton and neosporin for his sores.  The vet gave him an antibiotic shot and an anti-inflammatory.  And there were still fleas and mites that the

vet treated him for as well.  That first day when I brought him home from the vet and had him quarantined in my office, he came up to my chair, stood up and put his front paws on my legs and looked up into my eyes and into my heart.

It's taken months for Meatloaf to heal.  His eyes are better, his cough is gone, there are no more fleas or mites or open sores.  I am still cleaning his ears every 2 to 3 days, but everything else is fine. And it's time for him to find his forever home.  If I were going to have a foster failure it would be this boy.  He's sweet and laid back, he loves nothing more than to lay down on my lap and have me pet him to sleep after dinner.  But if I keep him - I will not be able to foster other cats and I really want to do that.  Fostering means being a place for animals that need someone to care for them until a forever home can be found for them.  I want to be able to do that for other cats too.

There was a woman who wanted to meet him and I was hopeful.  She sat with him, petted him, had him on her lap for the better part of an hour.  But she was worried about his cataract - did that mean he might get one in the other eye?  How were his teeth?  She pried his mouth open to look. Obviously she was not looking for a cat (estimated to be about 8 years old) who had come from a rescue situation.

Too bad, it is her loss.  But Meatloaf is still looking for a home.  He isn't going to go to just anyone. A special boy like him - deserves a special home.

.. and then there were two.

Riley lived a good, long life.  But with the recent diagnosis of bladder cancer and the discomfort it was causing, it was time to say goodbye.

Riley was 20 years old and I will miss him every. single. day.

I love you old man.

This old man ...

.. weighs 10 lbs!!  At the vet tonight the vet tech said - at 20 years old, to be gaining weight like this - just doesn't happen!  Whatever you're doing, keep doing it because he's doing great!

Only time in my life I have been praised for providing a diet of junk food!  Well, copious amounts of good, healthy cat food, supplemented by cheeseburgers and hot dogs.  Turns out this kitty loves hot dogs.  :)  

Who knew?

Cheeseburgers do a body good! ( alternatively titled - cat lady talks cat )

Riley is 20 now.  He's bony and cranky and sleeps a lot which is probably quite normal for a cat his age.
But recently he started losing more weight than the doc was comfortable with so I needed to address that.

His cat food has been upped to the point where he gets at least twice what the other cats do, and his reward for his Monday vet trip has become a stop at McDonald's on the way home to pick up a cheeseburger which he loves. Giving him a quarter tablet of an appetite stimulant in the morning is a regular thing, and a package of hot dogs in the fridge are there just for Riley. He gets to lick the ice cream bowl and anything that has contained some kind of cheese product. He is enjoying his old age!

One of the last visits to the vet - they had to feel his belly to make sure he wasn't constipated - he had gained so much weight!  You wouldn't know to look at him probably, he's still a skinny old guy, but not like before. He still tends to look rumpled and and squinty and disgruntled a lot of the time ...

And his Yoda ears crack me up.

He has to be on my lap all the time ..

.. and if I'm not petting him, he's asking why!

He stalks me while I'm eating ..

.. and sometimes helps himself when I'm not looking!

Wheat Thins!

He enjoys his Monday cheeseburgers ..

... and synchronise sleeps with Norah.

Sometimes he shares space with Abby ...

.. sort of.

Mostly - he's as happy as a crabby ol' man cat can be these days!

.. and since we lost Jake - I can't help but give Riley as much attention as I reasonably can.  And what's a few cheeseburgers between friends, anyway?

REALLY crazy cat lady.

Seems my days have been a blur of opening cans of cat food, pouches, and sometimes unscrewing baby food jars.  Popping pills in the kitty's mouth, offering water and food and constantly monitoring.  Norah seems to be doing well sometimes, but now she isn't eating much again, to the point I had to force feed her with a syringe yesterday.  She hides when she thinks I am going to give her fluids, and tries to get away while I'm doing it.  She's wearing me down.  But then she comes and climbs into my lap, she's never been a lap cat, and she doesn't seem in pain or on the verge of death.  But her kidneys aren't functioning properly and if the only way to keep her going is with constant IV fluids - well - that's not going to happen.  Last night I was tired and had just finished forcing some food into Norah's mouth while she looked at me with that look only a cat can give as if to say -  "what the f*&k are you doing to me???"

Staying out of reach so she doesn't have to
have her sub-cue fluids.

As tears started to sting my eyes and I sat down to give in to despair I thought "HOLY CRAP!  I'M OFF MY MEDS!!!"

With everything that's been happening lately I have gotten lax about my own medication and must have gone a few days too many without my meds.  Not that the idea of possibly losing a cat shouldn't make one cry, but being properly medicated allows me to cope better.  YIKES.  I can't take care of my cats at the expense of my own health.  No matter how much I love them.

Norah goes back to the vet Thursday morning, we will see what the prognosis is then.
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Guess who's home?

Yes, Norah is home.  And man am I tired.  She is wobbly, her back legs are weak and she is on lots of meds.  I slept on the couch last night because she likes to sleep on my bed with me and I didn't want to worry about her going up and down the kitty stairs in the middle of the night.  I did not sleep well, or much.

Tonight I had to give Norah fluids so we improvised.  I warmed the bag and hung it on a laundry hanger.  It actually worked quite well for the job.  Managed to get 3 tablets and 1 capsule down her as well, and she ate a bit of food too.

                Bit blurry and yes, those roses are almost gone.  But it still looks
peaceful for a sick kitty, doesn't it?  

I don't know what's going to happen, if she will bounce back or not.  I know she was super happy when she saw the carrier and was allowed to climb into it - because she knew it meant she was coming home.  For now - I will play nurse for a while and we will see what happens. We've done what we can and if this is as good as she is going to get - it won't be good enough.  A bit more time will tell for sure.

Tough stuff!

Norah has always been the quiet kitty, the somewhat timid and skittish one who didn't demand a lot of attention.  I have to admit there are different things I say to the different cats, based on their personalities and traits.  With Norah I have always used a gentle tone of voice and always tell her what a pretty girl she is.  She's my full figured kitty and I relate to that - so you know, I always wanted her to know how beautiful she is.  Are cat people crazy?  I contend they are no crazier than dog people.  Well .. er .. as long as they don't have like .. 17 cats.  But I'm betting that the things any of us say to our pets when we are alone with them would sound crazy to anyone else.

This isn't a eulogy, but Norah is still at the clinic.  The docs removed her IV today for a little while so we could see if her back legs were working any better.  Cats are funny.  You put a harness on them and they fall over as if you've killed them right there.  So with the IV in Norah's front leg, she wasn't trying to walk at all.  Without the IV she was walking a bit, walking and sitting down, walking and sitting down, and sometimes sort of looking like a seal moving across the ice.  I don't have a clue what you would call that kind of movement.  Not exactly scooting .. .  Cute actually, but pretty ineffective.

Her numbers are a little better is some ways and not in others.  We are weighing everything but the bottom line is looming, will I even be able to take her home?  She isn't using the litter box and we don't know if it's her lack of mobility or if she doesn't have control, she has been eating a bit but the food doesn't seem to be moving out of her stomach.  I am afraid she's not doing well.

When I went to see her today she was so happy and full of purrs and snuggles and wanted to be close and mark me as hers over and over.  Her personality is there but her body isn't working right.  I've never had to consider putting an animal down, and I am so hoping it doesn't come to that.  Norah is built for comfort not for speed, but right now she's got neither.  It's just so strange how everything seems to have come together for a perfect storm for her, if one thing gets better but another doesn't .. is it enough?  I don't know.  But we're giving her the best chance we can.
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Look at my Jakie!

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Took Jakie to the vet this evening, and asked them to shave some spots on her sides.  Turns out it's really hard to give a tiny, skinny kitty a shot - it's hard to tell if you're getting that insulin under her skin, or into a handful of fur.  The vet tech said they actually suggest doing this sometimes and surprisingly, some owners will not let them alter their kitty's coat.  ?   Jake doesn't mind, why would an owner have a problem with it if it helps getting their kitty well?  Or at least helps getting their condition stabilized?  Anyway.

Giving Jake her injection after the haircut was easy peasy, no problem at all.  She might have to stick with this hairstyle for a while - maybe she'll start a trend!  Sh-h-h-h...that's what I'm telling Jake anyway.  She's sex-ay!


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In my next life ..

..I mean really, wouldn't it be great to be able to stretch out and nap wherever you wanted to - regardless of anything going on around you?  Nice.  This crabby old man cat increasingly just wants to be with me, on me, near me.  I think he's getting close to the end of his road, he's tired.  He sleeps on my bed most nights, and many times during the day as well.  His life seems to revolve around me now.  That's okay, he could be in pain or uncomfortable or unable to eat or something, but he's not.  So I'll let him sleep on my bed or my foot or wherever if it makes him happy.

On the other hand, he could be putting on a good act just to get more attention.  He's not above that kind of subterfuge.

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Who sleeps on your computer when you try to use it?

Guess who?

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WHAT??

So?  What do you feed your animals??!

Don't judge until you've had a cat with an overactive thyroid!

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This guy?

Sleeps like the dead.  Unless his stomach is growling he doesn't wake up when someone comes in the room or makes normal household noises. 

Unless of course, it is about 3:00 am.  Then he gets up and wanders the house - yowling.  I've read that it's not unusual for elderly cats to wander at night, to seem confused and to vocalize.  My crabby ol' man cat qualifies as elderly and he's certainly doing those things.  It has been suggested that I open the door and allow him to make the choice.  But how can I punish him if he has kitty-Alzheimer's?

Sigh-h-h.

He's lucky I love him.  Oh well, I've played the caretaker role before ...

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Taking two cats to the vet at the same time is not a good idea if:

a) neither have been there in years


b) neither of them are easy to handle


c) either of them thinks a stranger touching them means they should scream like a toddler being sawed in half


d) either of them reacts to a stethoscope by using the twist, writhe, growl and pee tactic


e) neither of them have been vaccinated or examined in a long enough time that you have to spend the amount equal to (but not more than) a Chevy Volt to pay for the appointment


You're welcome.


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THIS makes torturing my cat a little bit easier.

So crabby old man cat Riley gets thyroid meds in tablet form every day.  Actually it's only a quarter of a tablet, twice a day.  He also gets an oral stool softener twice a day.  I enjoy giving it to him SO much!  Not.  Now Jake needs the same thyroid meds, same amount, same form.  Thank God she doesn't need the stool softener too. I get that stuff on Canada's black market.  Don't want to break the law on a greater scale than I already am.


Riley is easy to give meds too.  He doesn't like it, that he makes clear.  But he knows food will follow so he doesn't fight.  Jake on the other hand is like a Pez dispenser.  I put that pill in her mouth, her head goes back and out pops the pill again, immediately.  It's kind of amazing really that she can do it every. single. time.  Brought her back to the vet today and she has only gained 1 oz since November.  Obviously more of the meds are ending up in the bathroom rug than down her gullet.

Enter the pill shooter.   


I'd never seen one before, much less used one.  But tonight I held Jake by the scruff - which for you non-cat people, reduces many cats to kittens responding to their mother holding them that way, they get calm and hold still.  Anyway, I held her still by the scruff, stuck the pill shooter (with pill inside) into the side of Jakes mouth and shot it!  She looked at me like - what was that??  And then proceeded to eat the food she had been waiting for.  


Oh please please PLEASE let this continue to work.  You really feel like a failure when an itty bitty kitty defeats you every. single. time.


I need my dignity back.
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He HAD a new do!

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Took crabby ol' man Riley cat to the vet for his once weekly "drink".  The technician came and carried him away in his carrier like usual, while I amused myself listening to these crazy cat people obsessing about their cats, pretending I wasn't one of them.  


It wasn't too long before Riley cat was being returned to me in his purple carrier, all watered and ready to go.  Except the tech had a strange look on her face as she approached me, which wasn't usual at all.  She hesitantly asked me, "are you painting your house?"  


Well isn't that the strangest question to get at the cat clinic!  

Cute even with a clean head!

"No, not painting anything ... "


"Well Riley had this stuff all over his head .. "


Oooof!


I realized I should have warned them but I had forgotten.  "OH!  NO!  That was cottage cheese!  He wanted to finish the container of cottage cheese and stuck his head all the way down to the bottom and it kind of slicked back the fur on his head and dried like that."  I went on.  "I kinda thought it was cute, so I didn't wash it off."  


The tech smiled at me, not nearly as amused as I was.  "Well it's washed off now."


Oops. 


It really was cute, though.  Really.


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And then, there’s Riley~

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He's called the crabby old man cat for a reason.  According to the vet Riley is around 17 years old.  Pretty old for a kitty.  He is the only boy out of 4 cats, yet he has a stuffed lamb as a girlfriend.  Don't ask.
 
He's never been one for cuddling, or much of a lap cat.  He has always been more of the stereotypical ‘aloof’ cat, content to ignore the humans in the room unless they can be useful to him.
 

Now, as he's gotten older, he has become my shadow.  When I am sitting, he is sitting next to me, sometimes on me which is unheard of with him.  Used to be he would nip when he decided he was done being petted, now he will sit and purr and keep asking for more with his eyes - forever.


Makes me crazy that this crabby old man shed-machine is on me, all. the. time.  But on the other hand .. how soon will I be wishing he was still here to 'bother' me some more?  So I pet him and baby him and let him sit on me, and laugh when he sits on the back of the couch and head butts my head. 



I mean really, crabby old man cats don't last forever, y'know?


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OMG Cat ~

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I wanna see what HE'S looking at!

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