The Scales Balance: Cammie's Turn

Tucker is improving, and Cammie is worsening. Fortunately, her condition will, I hope, get much better in the next few days.

Cammie has a urinary tract infection. More than a week ago, I noticed that someone had wet on the litter-mats I have laid down in front of the litter-boxes. I thought of Tucker, with his past of such troubles. But he had not done something akin to that in a very long time, so I actually thought that he, or perhaps Josie, had simply missed the box with their big bums.

Then, in the days following, I noticed more drops on the mats. A small pool was found on the bathroom floor, soon after I had seen Cammie wander in there. I wiped it up and saw a pink tinge to the liquid. The princess had been throwing up due, I think, to a hairball. I had been treating that with the delicious hairball remedy that ‘every cat loves!’ as the product claims, so I thought it might be the froth of blood-tinted bile.

Yesterday, I saw Cammie in the nylon tunnel, a very rare event. This morning, I witnessed her squatting in the middle of the sitting room, and I had no doubt as to what she was doing. I interrupted her but she left behind a few drops of urine. Later, she wet a little more in the tunnel. I made an appointment for her at the hospital, setting it for tomorrow afternoon.

At about mid-day, however, when I returned from running errands, Cammie was under the bed. That’s a sign that she is scared or feeling very poorly. I decided that her condition couldn’t wait, and I moved her appointment with a doctor twenty-four hours ahead.

I figured that if Cammie was urinating whenever she felt she must, there may not be much in her bladder for the veterinarian to analyse. Fortunately – in this instance only – she had wet again on the litter-mats. I vacuumed as much of this as I could into a syringe and took it with me. I doubted that it would give a good sample, as it was probably contaminated. As it turned out, however, the doctor was able to analyse the tiny amount found in Cammie’s bladder, and confirm her findings with the sample I had taken. Cammie had an infection.

So we came back home with Clavamox, one millilitre to be given to the princess twice a day. (A different millilitre each time; not the same one given twice. You probably gathered that.) I have already started the treatment. Cammie is not under the bed right now, though I suspect that is due to her relief at being home, rather than any fast-acting anti-biotic. Because of the small and possibly polluted sample of my cat’s urine, the doctor would like her to return for another analysis when the medicine is finished. In the meantime, I will try to get Cammie to eat soft-food and drink plenty of water, even if I must put it into her by syringe.

So the scales balance, one cat going up and one going down. But with medicine, attention and a healthy environment, perhaps we can cheat a little, and watch both sides of the scale rise. 

At Last, Some Good News For Tucker

Hurrah! Tucker has been accepted at Oxford, and this September leaves for four years of intense study in England.

Well, no, that would be silly. He hasn’t even finished high school yet.

However, the roly poly does have some good news. It doesn’t have to do with his Horner’s Syndrome, which is still afflicting him. I spoke with his regular doctor and she saw no reason to bring him to the hospital right now; since Tucker is suffering no other problems, there is little to be done with his current condition. As some from the Cat Blogosphere have told me, it could take a while before the situation improves. The veterinarian said the same thing. So my cat will continue to look like a little sausage-shaped Bond villain for a while.

A week ago, I conducted another curve on Tucker, who has diabetes. The first number in the curve was quite low, and by late morning, his numbers were very low. I was ready with the corn syrup, but he was not otherwise affected, so there was no crisis. But it occurred to me that I was now giving him too much insulin in the mornings.

Some time ago, the amount was increased to four units in the morning (and kept at three in the evening). This was because Tucker’s numbers were not satisfactorily low. Now, they were too low. I decided to reduce his dosage to three units in the morning, and followed his curve with individual tests over the next five days.

These showed a lower average number than had been the case previously. This average, though not quite as low as the doctor would have liked, was nonetheless a good one and suggested that the management of Tucker’s diabetes may be starting. The veterinarian agreed that the roly poly’s dosage should be fixed now at three units in the morning and three at night.

This is a small change. It may take a long time for the condition to be crushed – it may never be entirely beaten – but at least we are moving in the right direction.

This is better than going to England, though Tucker will miss out on the chance to play Blofeld’s cat in the next 007 film.

My Popeye

It seems, sometimes, that not a day goes by without something happening here. And, usually, what is happening is happening to Tucker.

The poor roly poly has had more than his share of health problems, and here is another. Tuesday afternoon, I noticed that Tucker’s right eye was looking wrong. Upon closer examination, I found that its third eyelid covered about a third of the eye. You can probably see it better if you click on the photographs below to enlarge them.

I consulted with others in the rescue-group to which I belong. They are very knowledgeable in feline matters, and I was told that what I was looking at was called Horner’s Syndrome. From what I have learned, it is a symptom, rather than a condition in itself. Frustratingly, there are a number of possible causes, some of which are serious, others of which, though hardly trivial, are less frightening.

So far, Tucker’s eye problem has not ameliorated itself. Today, I called one of the veterinarians at our hospital, and spoke with her about Tucker. She was not alarmed and advised that I wait out the weekend; possibly, I should wait a full week since the onset of Horner’s, before I bring Tucker in for an examination.

After eliminating some potential causes, I feel that the only other aspect of Tucker’s health right now that may have a bearing upon his latest trouble is that he seems to have a very mild respiratory issue. It is not as bad as the cold he suffered a while ago, but I have noticed that his right nostril (note that it is the same side as his affected eye) is crusty, probably with dried mucous. As well, the roly poly one, while grooming and eating, is making disgusting, slobbery noises similar to those he created when he had a cold.

It is a matter of waiting right now. I will see how the weekend goes. Tucker is not suffering in any other way that I can see. He is eating well, ready to play with me, and is his normal cheerful self. I realise that cats hide their ailments well, but I see no sign that he is in urgent need of medical care. I am nonetheless glad that I have a remaining week to my holidays, and can observe him through most of each day to come.

Tucker is the next of my beasts to be featured in the upcoming PAW Society calendar (they being photographed in the order in which I adopted them), so I hope he is recovered before his photo session. This reminds me of school picture day. How many of us had some unsightly blemish that arrived just in time to be recorded permanently, to our mortification? That little kid with the acne, or cold sore, or bad haircut? That’s Tucker.

A Heated Discussion

The weather in southern Alberta is now more than vernal, with plenty of sun and warmth. My cats are typical in that they like a little sunshine on their furs. But my two girls like a lot of sunshine.

Josie and Cammie are my warm-weather pets. Whenever there is a sunbeam shining into the apartment, one of them will find it. The princess enjoys the yellow warmth so much that she will even bear the Great White’s proximity for its feel. I have often asked how a feline, with its fur-coat, can not only stand such additional warmth, but crave it.

That is not all. I of course had the heating pads plugged in and installed in the cat-beds through the cold months. I removed the heating elements a while ago but returned them when the temperature dropped and the rain fell. I haven’t taken them out once more. And the girls are grateful for it. On days of 25° Celsius (77° Fahrenheit), I will find them in their respective beds (each has her favourite) soaking up the warmth from below, just as the sun provides it from above.

But, as Tennyson wrote, “Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do whatever the blasted cats want.” I may be paraphrasing.

Success, One Meal at a Time

I am having great success right now with feeding Cammie Merrick tinned food. She has always preferred Fancy Feast over any other tinned food, and the ocean whitefish variety at that. But the condition which I consider an allergic reaction, and which I have described previously, continues to appear on the sides of her head. Certainly, it has not recurred in such a severe case as when she ate something with shrimp, or when she was given a Blue brand food, when she wasn’t eating anything else. But the reaction continued, small pink patches, slightly inflamed, with little pin-pricks of blood when the inflammation ruptured. They have been nothing dramatic, and have not been bothering the princess.

Even so, I believe that her tinned diet was the cause.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been giving her Merrick tinned food. She eats the surf ‘n’ turf variety, as well as the chicken, and has been, if not enthusiastic, then adequately approving of the menu. I have, in fact, been able to serve her as much of the Merrick as she had wanted of the Fancy Feast.

I have noticed a reduction in the allergy, such as I call it. There is less pink and fewer spots of blood, indicating, I believe, less inflammation to burst. Cammie still receives Fancy Feast ocean whitefish from time to time. There have been days when nothing else will do for her. Oddly, she does not respond well when I garnish some Merrick with a tiny amount of Fancy Feast to make it more alluring; the other cats go for this, but the princess will not touch adulterated food; pure Merrick or pure Fancy Feast, nothing in between.

I have stocked up on the three flavours of Merrick that have received practical approbation from the beasts (beef is the third). My cautious ‘right now’ in this entry’s first sentence is a reflection of how suddenly a cat’s appetite can alter, so I take Cammie’s liking for Merrick one day at a time. I still buy Fancy Feast, as it is a nice treat, something different, for the others, and does them no harm that I can see. But for my little Siamese, a special menu will continue to be used.