Chin Up, Renn

The rule in the Cosy Apartment is that when one cat recovers from an ailment, another must take its place. Minuet continues to improve (she actually climbed her cat-tree last night, which she hasn’t done in some time) but Renn went to the veterinary yesterday.

It was more of an inquiry than a real worry on my part. I had noticed, strangely, that my big boy’s chin seemed more prominent than it had been; a friend had thought so, too. I wondered if Renn’s jaw had started protruding. It could also have been simply a matter of perception: his face had always been large and wide, but he has been losing muscle mass over the last little while, and the chin may simply have started to look bigger. There was also the matter of Renn’s periodic drooling, which seemed not to be connected with happiness or hunger or sickness.

His chin’s appearance turned out to be mostly harmless. Though only fifteen, Renn seems to be aging as would an older cat, and has lost some of the breadth and depth of his once fleshy face. His chin and jaw are fine, though they indicate his advancing age (thus, it is ‘mostly’ harmless: getting old always comes with some damage.) But it was discovered that one of his teeth is in bad shape, and the doctor is sure that it is causing my big boy some pain. This would account for the drooling.

I will make an appointment for a dental procedure for Renn. I will try to get him in early next week. There will be a pre-surgical blood panel performed, though the doctor doesn’t think there need be a full series of tests; those were done relatively recently. I received an estimate for the cost, which will be substantial. But it needs to be done. My friend still has years ahead of him, I hope, and a right to enjoy them in comfort and ease.

Solid Progress

The anti-biotic I have been giving to Minuet since Monday seems to be working. Today, I returned home, opened the door of the library, in which Min had been locked – and which the other beasts had been locked out of – to find a splendid example of healthy poop in the litter-box.

I was surprised that it was in such a good condition, considering how liquidy Minuet’s deposits had been just a couple of days ago. Today’s was what I wanted to see. It appeared a trifle softer than tits counterparts had been a few weeks ago, but that I don’t mind: I had considered Madame’s feces to be rather too hard, anyway. They may return to that state, but as long as they come firm and shaped, I will be happy.

I am not so complacent as to think there may not be set-backs, and I am certainly not going to cease giving Minuet her medicine before the time set by her veterinary. Even so, I am optimistic. This is at the least a good sign. Such a poop is indeed solid progress.

Treatment, Day One

Minuet has received some anti-biotics for her diarrhea. There wasn’t much else that could be done at this point, considering she was examined on Saturday and everything found to be in order, except, of course, the symptoms that brought her to the hospital. It’s felt that she has an infection. She was given her first dose of medicine this evening; she didn’t like it, and there are nine more doses to go, spread over five days.

One of the side-effects of the medicine may be a loss of appetite. That isn’t what Min needs right now but neither is it a certainty; if it happens, it should last only as long as the anti-biotics do. She did eat well today, and I intend to leave her food with her tonight, which I generally don’t do. She can nibble whenever she feels like it.

I will probably isolate her in the library each day. This will allow me to see what she has left in the litter-boxes and what she has eaten from her bowls, without the interference of certain other animals. I will keep everyone apprised of Madame’s condition.

Still Sick

Minuet is still not feeling well. She hasn’t thrown up since yesterday, before her veterinary visit, though I don’t know if that is a progression in her illness or the work of the Cerenia she received at the hospital (if it is the latter, she may vomit further after the injection wears off.) Another change is that she is not drinking as much water as yesterday, when she ambled from bowl to bowl, taking in a few laps at each.

She is not eating on her own, so I am syringe-feeding Recovery-and-water to her every couple of hours. Her poop is very liquidy, and reddish, which concerns me. I will be considering another veterinary visit if there is no improvement in Madame’s condition in the next few days.

Minuet Visits the Doctor

Minuet went to the doctor today. She had been throwing up clear liquid for a couple of days, and last night, puked up some blood, or at least bloody bile. She also refused her breakfast and was lying in unusual locations. I suspected a hairball and, if it had been a younger cat, would probably not have resorted to the veterinary. But at nineteen, Min’s health cannot be left in question.

Fortunately, the veterinary hospital to which I have been taking my cats for years is open Saturday mornings (and they have an emergency service after hours), and they were able to fit us in. The doctor was very pleased with Minuet’s general health: Madame’s lungs and heart sound good, her weight is remaining constant, and she is still not diabetic (a blood-glucose reading of 8.3). Her temperature (the taking of which was the only aspect of the visit to which Minuet protested) was normal; no obstructions or unusual masses were felt.

The doctor believed that Min’s problem is indeed a hairball. An injection of Cerenia was given to settle her stomach and reduce the discomfort a bit.

Minuet still has not eaten, however. I am not surprised. With my other cats, a badly upset stomach will often result in a reluctance to eat that extends beyond the time they are actually in pain, or feeling sick. I have had to force-feed cats in the past to get them over this hurdle, and may with Minuet. Once she understands that food will stay down, she may eat on her own.

I will give her this day to work up an appetite, but if nothing has been consumed by tomorrow, I will have to rely on the syringe.

The Old Work-horse

One of my cat-bed heating pads broke. I would say it stopped working but, game veteran that it is, it actually still works. But it literally broke. It appeared to have snapped in half. It and its fellow (still in one piece) had a small amount of elasticity but not much. They may become brittle with the constant heat. But I don’t feel it’s safe to continue to run this pad, now that it is broken.

I bought these in November, 2011. They were a perfect fit for the two cat-beds I had recently bought. I could take the cushions out of the beds - a useful feature which I have found in very few other cat-beds - and place the pads between them and the bottoms of the beds.

They were efficient and hardy. They would run twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week for seven or eight months at a time. As cats grew older - first Tungsten, then Cammie, and finally, Josie - the pads ran all year ‘round. Being constantly on for years, yet remaining a consistent temperature and never presenting any safety issues are all good recommendations for such a product.

I have one more, just as I have one of the corresponding cat-beds remaining (the other fell apart; the beasts don’t treat them gently, and washing produced its share of wear and tear), and I have a heating ‘strip’, which is well-suited in shape to Minuet’s folded towel. But I will miss this fine old work-horse. It has served me and the cats well.

Well, Maybe He Does

Apparently, Neville, nettled by my remarks about the recent image of his somewhat overflowing situation in the cat-bed, and emboldened by the support he has received from readers, desired to show me that, in most cases, he does indeed fit…