Hope for the Lion, Part 2

What a reversal of fortune for Neville. He went to the hospital, and is still there.

A doctor different than the first saw him, and is certain that Nev’s problem is an abscess due to infection in the hole left from a tooth extracted a few months ago. He explained how an abscess can form in the chin – due to a lack of any channel that may be used for drainage – and how it can be emptied, the cavity cleaned and the hole sewn shut to avoid it happening again.

The surgery is taking place now, thanks, I think, to most people believing that this veterinary hospital was closed today (most businesses take Monday off in lieu of Saturday’s Canada Day; the hospital closed Friday, instead.) Time was available, which obviates Nev having to be brought in for another appointment tomorrow or whenever there is an opening. Afterward, he will receive an injection of strong anti-biotic; the previous ones we used either made the Nevsky sick or had minimal effect on the abscess, because of its isolated situation.

I asked the doctor outright if he thought Neville had cancer, and he said that it didn’t appear so. His partner had noted her ‘suspicions’ of carcinoma – which is not the more certain statement made to me – but even from the look of the infected spot, it seems not to be cancerous. Once the abscess burst, the infection subsided a bit, and it appears smaller and less red now than previously. It will, of course, worsen again without treatment, which is what Neville is receiving now.

Another blessing is that, while the veterinary was very reluctant to sedate Nev with normal drugs, due to his unmanaged diabetes, there are drugs that can by-pass such dangers, and that is what he will be given. Even so, my lion survived his dental surgery not so long ago without trouble.

This is a great relief for me. I will not assume that Neville has no cancer, though it now seems improbable. But he is at the age for it, and has had every other crisis, so I won’t uncross my fingers yet. And this is clearly a tricky condition he has, so I won’t disregard the possibility that it will recur. There is still his uncontrolled diabetes; was it caused by this infection, slowly working its way into an abscess? Maybe, maybe not; the diabetes may remain a difficulty. That written, I will consider first things first. A victory over Nev’s immediate problem feels impending, and he likely does not have cancer. I am very confident of better health for my grey lion.

Hope for the Lion

Today, I was going to take Neville to the veterinary hospital to say good-bye to him. Since the previous blog-entry about him, his condition had grown worse and, instead of not giving him his daily dose of pain-killer, I knew he had to have more than what had been prescribed. He was in a bad way.

But yesterday, a great deal of blood and puss broke out of his chin, which has now been reduced to a more normal size. Moreover, his behaviour makes it clear that he is not as distressed, and is more restful than he had been. These factors have made me wonder if his recent problems have stemmed from a severe abscess. So today, Nev is going to the vet, but for an examination and, possibly – possibly tomorrow – a cleansing of what may remain of an abscess while under sedation. This will be accompanied by an injection of a powerful anti-biotic. This has the advantage of being given directly into the system, though the disadvantage is that once it is given, it is given, and any ill effects must be endured. But a surgical cleansing would, hopefully, eliminate a recurrence of the infection, which would return unless aggressively dealt with.

The diagnosis of cancer could have been in error. Then again, it may have been correct. But I feel I can’t pass this opportunity for giving my grey lion a chance at a few more years, without pain. If it is cancer after all, then he may still have months ahead of him. I think it is worth investigating. In any case, I won’t let him suffer, and my eye will be closely on him.

A Sad Day

Poppy Q has died. For those who don’t know her, she was a lovely little girlcat who lived with her mum in New Zealand. She was sixteen, I think, and failing. Her mum knew that she would have to say good-bye very soon, so there was some time for her to prepare, but that never helps much when it comes to loss, anyway.

I visited Poppy’s blog every day for years, to see what was new. Hers were, perhaps, ordinary adventures: a new bed, a trip to the veterinary hospital, something delicious to eat. She would often wake her mum far too early, or prevent her from sleeping well during shift-work. But I don’t think it was minded too much.

Her mum thought it was time for Poppy’s last trip to the hospital earlier in the week, but the little grey cat rallied for a final day. It reminded me of when my Tucker was able to enjoy one more day, one more tasty meal, one more evening with his human. These are the splendid times we remember.

If you would like to visit Poppy’s blog and leave condolences, I think it would give comfort to her mum. Awareness that your loved one was known and is missed is a gift.

http://poppyq.blogspot.com

Flatter Cubes

The nylon cube is losing its cubidity. Even when it is opened as much as possible, it leans at a sharp angle, which makes it easy to collapse. Fortunately, some cats don’t let that stop them from enjoying it. Both Dabney and Percy take advantage of even the flatter shape of the cube, but the latter seems really to enjoy it.

Neville however, appears rather unimpressed with the cube’s continued use.

No Purrs for Percival

I am surprised I didn’t write of this before.

Percival is a happy little fellow for the most part. He likes to play, to look out the windows, to have his chest and chin rubbed. One will know when this fuzzy guy is happy. But one won’t know by hearing it. Percy doesn’t purr.

He has been with me almost three months now, and I have yet to hear him purr. I can feel him do it; his throat vibrates with the tell-tale signs of gladness, but there is nothing audible. The closest he comes is when he is having his neck and chin rubbed and his head is right back; he then emits a series of little puffs out the sides of his otherwise closed mouth. And that’s it.

I thought initially that Perce didn’t know how to purr. But he is a naturally good-humoured mancat, and it’s hard to believe that he would have lived as long as he has without learning. And the motive is there. Just not, perhaps, the motive power. He may have a physical defect about him that prevents purring. Who can say?

The important thing is that Percival is usually in a good mood, usually pleased with life, usually happy. Under such circumstances, whether he tells everyone or not is immaterial.

A Reverse

Dabney’s integration suffered a set-back last night. It happened almost at the very last minute of my holidays. I was ready for bed and checking on the cats before I turned out the lights. I was in the library, where Neville was on the bookcase under the window, and Dabs was lying down at the room’s threshold, as he often does. I had just seen Percival reclining about six feet outside the library.

Without warning, Dabney screamed and launched himself at Percy. There was fur flying before I could intervene. But even with me standing between them, the new boy wanted to rush at Perce again. I was able calm both of the boys down and coax Dabney into the library again. He spent the night alone in there. This morning, he was reasonable again, but I didn’t want to take a chance, and he is in the library while I am at work.

I don’t consider this an insurmountable problem. I think Dabney was trying not to hurt Percival; in the instant between the contact he made and my separation of the two, there could have been bloodshed. A cat bent on doing real damage would have grappled with his opponent. I have seen several battles in my home - between Josie and Wixie, Tungsten and Luther, Parker and Tucker - and each was more serious and severe than this. (Of those three pair, Wixie and Luther were adopted, while Parker and Tucker came to an accommodation with each other.) I believe that, for whatever reason, Dabs has decided he must intimidate Percy, show him who’s boss. He was, in effect, demonstrating what could happen; this was a warning, though what Perce could do to avoid a similar or worse occurrence, I don’t know, since he was not in the least threatening, so far as I could see - and probably in his own mind. To Dabney, the situation was different.

But before I left this morning, I did let the little combatant out, and he behaved as he had formerly toward Percy. Nonetheless, the latter was wary, and Dabney was eyeing Percy rather diligently. I will allow everyone their freedom this evening and see how things develop from there. Dabney may require another week in the library during my absences. We will see what follows upon that.

A Bit More About Neville

In a brief addendum to what I lately wrote about Neville, I will state that I have decided not to give him a daily dose of his pain medicine. I have been watching him and talking to him, and he does not seem to be feeling pain. Though the veterinary thinks he is suffering a little, I don’t see it. The Nevsky is sleeping well and comfortably, he is not restless, he is not licking or grimacing; he appears normal.

This would not be a problem but for his morbid fear of receiving any oral medicine. The pain-killer I have is relatively easy to administer, but the stress Nev feels is out of proportion to its delivery. 

So I will wait on the medicine. This entails a certain risk that I am wrong, but I will observe my friend carefully each day, and make a judgement accordingly. To be honest, I believe he is more content at the moment than he has been for some time, with the various anti-biotics, anti-nausea injections and hospital visits of the recent past. I hope I will know if that changes.