Our Path Upwards

Things improved at the cosy apartment over the weekend. Tucker is eating again, though not as much as I would like. He is down to six kilograms now, which, while not a bad weight, is quite light for the roly poly. I can feel how he has lost poundage when I pick him up. I would like him to put a bit more on. But he is eating, and he is behaving normally now, which are good signs.

Parker is eating, as well. Sometimes he surprises me with how much he eats. It depends on the day and the food. One day, he didn’t seem to care for anything, so I resorted to a tin of food of a kind that he had previously liked, one that isn’t really very good for cats, though at this stage of Puck’s life, long-term effects of diet don’t matter a great deal. He ate three quarters of the tin’s contents at one meal. So I bought more the next day; it was a clearance item, on sale, and I purchased the remaining fifteen tins. I didn’t want to be caught in the situation, so familiar to me, of wishing I had obtained more of something when I had had the chance. If he decides he no longer likes it, or cannot eat it, it will not be wasted.

My orange-boy also continues to take an interest in his surroundings. The weather has warmed - for now - and I was able to open the windows a bit, despite the high winds. He enjoyed that.

Raleigh meanwhile has reverted quite a bit. He is afraid of me, and, since he was swatted by Renn for trying to jump up on the couch on his way to my lap, no longer sits on me. I will have to socialize him over again, to a great extent. However, he still plays and lounges in the heated cat-bed and on the furniture. His eye still runs, but returning to a full tablet of Prednisolone each day has taken his mouth back to its improved state. And he its eating fully, allowing me to crush his medicine into his food.

Cammie continues to wet in the library. I am going to try Feliway again, since I have found a source of it in my town. There are apparently two versions, one to reduce friction between cats and the other to reduce improper urination. My princess requires both right now.

As for the other two beasts, Renn and Josie are doing well, though I need to pay more attention to the latter. My Chubs is the sort of cat who asks for attention only when I am on my way to somewhere or something, and too frequently gets put off with a promise of petting later. Renn will need a dental procedure, and I don’t want to delay it too long, as it may be causing him discomfort.

While the situation could be better, it could also be worse, so I am grateful for the gains we’ve made. Everyone is eating (enough), using the litter-boxes (mostly) and in comfort (I believe). That’s not bad for six cats and one human.

A Defeat

Tucker continues to struggle with the aftermath of his weekend illness. He has eaten no food on his own since Monday, and I have been force-feeding him Recovery-and-water. That will keep him going, but won’t do much else. Fortunately, he doesn’t resist the syringe.

The roly poly’s doctor has decided that, in view of Tucker’s rising numbers during his curves, he should receive more insulin. Instead of the one unit per day dosage that he had been previously prescribed, Tucker will now be given two units in the morning and one in the evening. This will start tomorrow, when I can check his blood-sugar level six hours after his injection.

I consider this a defeat for my friend, and a failure on my part. I realise that diabetes is a tricky condition, and does not play by the rules, but Tucker was doing well until recently. I think the stress of Raleigh’s addition to the household, and the concerns over Parker’s cancer may be exacerbating Tucker’s problem, and it is my fault for not reducing the bad atmosphere in the apartment.

I have begun playing harp music for the cats during the day when I am not present. While I have found on the internet music specifically for cats - how much that matters, I don’t know - I have not discovered any length of play that exceeds six hours. Non-feline harp music is available, and I may simply play that.

Feliway is no longer available in my town, its place being taken by a brand called Comfort Zone. I tried the defusers last night and found that they heated tremendously. I imagined that they would grow warm and even at the temperature they reached are probably no danger. However, I do not feel comfortable leaving them plugged in; I will not use them. I will try the spray instead. The physics of its application are likely less successful than dispersal into the air on a continual basis, but I think if I spray it on cat-trees and beds that the beasts frequent, it may have some result, if such products have any at all.

Therefore, along with attempting to increase everyone’s food consumption (all the cats are eating too little, in my opinion), I will try to reduce stress and create a more harmonious environment, something which has obviously been diminishing. These, I think, will be instrumental in creating happier and healthier cats.

The Princess and the Pee

Cammie wet on the floor in the library this morning. There is a rug covering the fitted carpets there, and she wet on that, but that isn’t the point. I am sure there is nothing physically amiss with the princess. I believe she is feeling stress.

She has fixated on Raleigh now, and will come into the sitting room, crouch a few feet away from him and stare at the unfortunate newcomer. I move her along whenever I see her doing this, but I cannot do that during the day when I am at work. Fortunately, I think she doesn’t do it often. It must have a discouraging effect on Peachy, too, having a malevolent Siamese cat glowering at you.

I will be purchasing some Feliway dispensers today. I haven’t had much success with them in the past, but they may give different results this time. It’s certain that most of the beasts are out of sorts right now, and each is affecting the others. If even one of them feels a little peace and serenity from this new item in the household, then the extra expense will be worth it.

The Score So Far

Tucker went to visit the doctor yesterday. He didn’t have Renn’s equanimity under similar conditions, nor Cammie’s resentment. And he wet in his carrier.

Physically, all seems well with the roly poly. He had had blood-testing and urine-testing just a couple of months ago, for his dental work, so these were not repeated. Everything else registered well. Without any other indications, the doctor thought that Tucker had just been suffering a mild infection in the stomach. My boy was given an injection of Cerenia to calm his internal bits.

I think his problem now is psychological. He has not vomited since Sunday evening. I have offered him a dozen different varieties of food; he seems instantaneously interested, but a moment later, decides not to eat. I think he is afraid of throwing up. He has eaten nothing on his own since Monday morning, though I have been forcing some Recovery-and-water into him by syringe. That has been staying down, but it will never be in sufficient quantities to make up for eating on his own.

I am sure Tucker will start to eat again. We went through this with the removal of his teeth; he was afraid to eat then because of the possibility of pain in his mouth. I hope that repeated extrusions of Recovery will demonstrate that he can feed himself without fear of regurgitation.

Parker, on the other hand, has been eating very well. After preferring Koha chicken for a week or so, he refused it last night. I substituted Merrick chicken, and the orange-boy declared himself satisfied after half the tin had disappeared. This morning, he was back to Koha, though not a great deal of it.

With regards to quantity, I am not too concerned with how much Parker eats, so long as it is enough for his continuance. He tends to consume a most satisfactory amount at one meal, usually dinner, and very little for the rest of the night. Considering his condition, that is understandable; a very good feed will not only fill him up, but probably cost him his appetite for several hours afterward. If he is eating a decent portion at least once a day, I won’t complain.

Raleigh has reverted a little in his behaviour toward me, not liking me to come near him too much, yet eagerly lying on my lap when I sit on the couch. I think he misunderstands the point of survival-by-avoidance.

Anyway, I attempted to reduce the amount of Prednisolone that he was taking. After a couple of months of a full tablet once a day, the dosage was reduced. This has not proved a success. Even three quarters of a tablet was not enough, his mouth becoming messy, with drool and bits of food dropping out of it. It was probably painful, too. I have restored his previous amount, and suspect that he will feel better as a result. His left eye started to run again. I have begun applying medicinal drops to it, but as it seems to be in partnership with his mouth, I think its condition will improve with the Prednisolone’s restoration.

Peachy was eating much less then usual, and it was only with constant effort that I was able to coax him to eat, each day, the food in which I had crushed his medicine. Yesterday, however, he took a liking to a bit of Recovery I offered him; he eventually ate three quarters of a tin of it for dinner, and the rest at snack-time. It is pricey food, but if he continues to consume as much as he has been, it will be worth the cost.

At present, therefore, Tucker is in a holding pattern, with his fears working against him; Parker is also treading water, but feeling pretty good about it, and Raleigh is, I hope, climbing the slope of improvement even as I write. As for the others, Renn needs dental work (perhaps in the next few weeks), Cammie is stable (and glowering at Raleigh whenever she can) and Josie threw up when she ate the wrong kind of Fancy Feast - but is otherwise well.

And I’m tired.

Less Than Good

This weekend was not the carefree Utopia of joy and delight which I had hoped it would be. Saturday was acceptable, but Sunday turned bad.

Tucker ate this morning, but became hostile to food in the afternoon. He didn’t show up at the table to accompany (ie. watch) me while I ate dinner, which was quite out of character. Since then, he has thrown up several times.

Raleigh too ceased eating, though his avoidance began this morning. This was paired with what seemed to be a great fear of me, running from me and hiding. Food consumption is important to him in a way it is not to some others in that he must have his Prednisolone each day.

Worst of all, Parker has eaten only a few tiny pieces of chicken all day, and these he later threw up. For the last three working-days of the week, I had come home to a generous amount of regurgitation somewhere on the floor. I suspected that it had come from my orange-boy, and I was proved right today. What he has eaten in the evenings has usually stayed down, but he wanted to eat nothing tonight, despite the wide variety offered to him.

It is nearly bed-time as I write this and things have improved a little. Peachy ate a decent amount of food at snack-time, and I was able to introduce his Prednisolone into the soft-food then. He ate it all, thank goodness. Tucker will receive a dose of slippery elm before bed; I hope that will settle his stomach somewhat.

Parker, however, remains obdurate, and will not eat. His spirit, remarkably, is high. He and I had a good petting session this evening. I sat on the floor with him, and he purred his loud purr as he continually pushed his head against my hands and legs. But each time he was offered food, he seemed to consider it for several seconds, and then reject it. More chicken will be cut up and heated tomorrow (the immediacy of the warm, juicy meat seemed to appeal to him today), and other tinned foods will be tried. I know my sturdy-boy’s time must come, and likely soon, but I keep hoping it will be at some indefinite future point. Now seems far too soon.

Whatever Happened to Slim Pickens?

There are some who read this blog who may be wondering about Operation Slim Pickens, my attempt to trap and sterilise the community cats behind my work-place. I have officially closed the operation.

It was not an unqualified successful, as there will always be doubt in my mind about one cat, a cat I named Bauble. She – I refer to her as a female for convenience – was the last cat that I and the care-taker of the colony believed was unspayed, though the latter was not sure. Bauble was very shy, never appearing except in company with other cats. Consequently, she was tremendously difficult to trap: any time that I set a trap to catch her, another cat would end up in it, as Bauble did not venture anywhere first. She never showed up alone, and never gave me a chance to entice her without interference.

I tried to come up with a means of trapping Bauble for a couple of months. Then, she seemed to vanish. I haven’t observed her in about six weeks. It is very cold here, and has been for some time, but the other cats have survived, some living in small shelters provided for them, others preferring elsewhere. Bauble was close to other cats, and should have been able to stay warm with them. I don’t know what has happened to her. (Regarding her spaying: she may already have been fixed, as she did not become pregnant in all the time she was seen, and, if male, did not have the look of a tom-cat.)

Therefore, reluctantly, I have concluded Operation Slim Pickens. This doesn’t mean that I won’t start a sequel, if the need arises.

In some ways, I think, the operation has done good. I have caught and had neutered or spayed five adult cats, and eight kittens. Four of those kittens, brothers and sisters, went immediately to caring homes with women who staffed the charity next door to my work-place. They had been slowly getting the kittens used to people and had in fact been able to pick up a fifth sibling and put her in a carrier without recourse to trapping. The other kittens caught went to rescue groups for eventual adoption.

Of the five adults, Auvergne and Bijou remain with the colony, and I see them frequently. Beulah went to a rescue-group’s shelter. I have not seen Argosy for a long time, unfortunately. The first cat I trapped was Raleigh, and you may be familiar with his fate.

That the trapping had some success may be gauged by the fact that I have not seen kittens in or near it since Doodle and Sketch were captured. Indeed, the colony is small, comprising Bijou, Auvergne, Haff (so-called because he looks like Auvergne but with only half of his moustache), two tabbies (White-socks and Tabs) and, periodically, a handsome fellow with a long white coat and a floofy black tail (Francis, named after Francis X Bushman). He, Haff and the two tabby males had been neutered before I began my operations.

Come spring, there may be another tribe of kittens to trap. I hope not. There seem to be no re-productive cats in the colony and, with luck, none will join hereafter. I have access to traps again, if required, and arrangements will be made with a veterinary hospital. But, unlike the actor after whom the effort was named, I hope that Operation Slim Pickens will be able to retire, its work completed.

Argosy.

Auvergne.

Beulah.

Bijou.

Pallas.

Luna.

Maki and Gizmo.

Latimer and Latigo.

Doodle and Sketch.

Raleigh.