Tucker has had to go back to the animal hospital.
This roly poly sausage of mine has had more than his share of health problems. When he first came to me, he was traumatized by his abandonment by the family with whom he had lived the first five years of his life, and refused to eat or drink. He had to be force-fed. Later, he had to have dental surgery, and the experience was so stressful that he licked a portion of his skin raw. Since then, he’s had two urinary tract infections and a urinary blockage that necessitated another surgery.
Now, he is constipated. His intestines are full of poop. And it’s not moving. Over the weekend, I noticed that he went to the litter-boxes an inordinate number of times. My first thought, considering his history, was that he was suffering another blockage. But then, I observed him wetting. There was no problem there; indeed, it would have been an astonishing event if there had been, considering his earlier surgery. However, I later watched him dig a hole in the litter and try to poop. He could not.
I thought it may have had something to do with the cold that most of the cats had been enduring. It hit Cammie and Tucker the worst. Everyone recovered, but I considered that it may have upset the none-too-stable physical balance in the roly poly one. I concluded by Sunday night that he had still not relieved his bowels, so, since I was taking Tungsten in to the doctor to provide a urine sample for more tests the next day, I decided to bring Tucker as well.
By then, he had stopped moving about, was lying on my bed most of the time and, though eating soft-food, had little interest in the hard. He no doubt spent an uncomfortable night. When I took him to the doctor on Monday, she diagnosed the problem and cleared out some of the poop manually. That was a horrible experience for Tucker, very painful, but it seemed to relieve the problem. The next day, he was improved, running about, playing, very cheerful. But that evening, he visited the litter-boxes again, twice, and since I had just scooped them, I was able to determine easily that he could not go again.
Now, Tucker is in the animal hospital, the place he hates above all others. The treatment was an overnight dose of intravenous fluids, to ‘lubricate’ the bowels and get them moving. If that hasn’t worked by this morning, he will receive enemas. I am told that they are quite gentle, but if any manual removal of poop is needed, sedation or even anaesthetic will be used. I am waiting to hear of his progress.
A cat with the rescue group for which I volunteer had a similar problem several years ago. As with Tucker, she had never had the occurrence before and, after her treatment - which consisted of enemas - did not have it again. I hope that is the path my roly poly takes. This week has been an expensive one for me, as Tucker remains my most expensive possession. But he is also one of my most prized.