The Tail Tells

Though I still have hopes that Brazil will be adopted, I must be realistic. He is not a difficult cat. He is, in fact, rather easy: all you need is a great deal of patience and understanding. He will come around. It’s finding the right adopters that is the difficult part.

In the meantime, I continue to try to integrate him and Imogen. The latter dislikes the former; the former sometimes is rather too forward for the latter. I don’t keep Shimmer out of the bedroom – Imo’s safe-zone – all the time, since that would never advance the situation. He does come in and I allow him in under strict supervision; I am ready for anything that may happen.

What I have found is that Brazil is trying to sneak in to the bedroom without oversight. He thinks he is being stealthy. He will come in and lie under the bed. This is him flouting authority, I think. The trouble is that that long, slender tail of his usually sticks out. It’s like hiding underground but flying your flag over the inconspicuous spot you’ve chosen.

But this is moving in the right direction. If Brazil can be in the bedroom – and often Miss Silky knows he’s there – yet peace is maintained, then it is all to the good. The next stage will probably be Brazil seeing how long he will be permitted to stay while out in the open. Or, more to the point, how long he can restrain himself from making a nuisance with Imogen.

One step at a time.

Winter Has Turned Wintry

The weather here has turned wintry. In fact, until a few days ago, it felt more like early autumn, which suggests that the current situation is making up for lost time. This is what the weather was like Thursday evening. Temperatures are in Celsius.

As you can see, it has warmed up considerably from then.

To be honest, it feels rather colder than -35°, as it is the first time in my memory that even a minute or two without mittens makes the hands hurt. It also makes for difficulty breathing while riding a bicycle, another first. There are, of course, local and minor factors that influence the weather, so the actual temperature and conditions vary quite a bit.

By next weekend, it will be above freezing. This is life in southern Alberta.

I worry about the outsider cats. Since this deep-freeze has begun, I have not seen those in the feral colony at my work-place, or the ones who come to my own food- and water-bowls at home. It is too cold for them to move about; I can hope only that they are surviving. At a time when they need nourishment the most, they don’t feel that they can stir enough to obtain it.

I don’t care for extremes, in any field or subject. Extremes of weather, however, can be deadly; I like very high temperatures and torrential rains no more than I do very low temperatures and drought. Let’s hope Mother Nature feels inclined to put the ‘temperate’ back in the temperate zone soon.

Playing the Hazard

The stereotyped image of a cat-owner looking for his friends’ toys under a couch or kitchen appliance is a true picture for many. It is in the Cosy Apartment. The youngsters, especially Chiff and Theodore, are often knocking fuzzy mice or, in the latter’s case, his ‘puff-ball’, under the oven or refrigerator. In fact, it is a daily, if not, at certain times, an hourly occurrence. I at last realised why.

Watching the cats play, I saw that, while they enjoy fighting with a stuffed ‘kicker’ or a fat fabric mouse on the carpet, what they find more exciting is to bat the small - and thus easily manipulated (if one can use that word in connection with animals who don’t have hands) - items about on an uncarpetted floor, a surface that allows for easy sliding. I have, in fact, seen Chiff and Theodore carry a toy from the sitting room to the dining area, drop it on the hard floor, and start playing with it. There isn’t much space that isn’t carpetted, so they also take advantage of the bathroom and kitchen. It doesn’t take long for a toy to disappear under a big appliance in such a situation.

Other people may have had this revelation sooner, but it took me time to figure out why the kittens lose their toys so easily and frequently. It is, simply, the hazards of the preferred playing field. Objects don’t slide on rugs and carpets, but they don’t provide as much excitement, either. So I will be a bit more tolerant when I see one of the siblings trying to reach, for the tenth time that hour, a mouse or ball just out of reach under the fridge. A bit more tolerant.

A Good Shock

Renn’s urinalysis results came in, and his doctor called me today. She told me that the fluid was “shockingly healthy.”

Everything was quite normal with the urine, except for the specific gravity. For a cat in his prime, it is about 10.5; Renn’s had been 10.24, and is now 10.2. This is, however, what may be expected for a cat with his kidney issues.

What the doctor did not expect was to see no other signs of ill-health. While surprised, she was also pleased about it. If the mass that had been seen in the ultra-sound were cancer, it would likely have given off a few cells in the urine; there would have been blood disturbance, and the red and white blood count would have been irregular. If the mass were a bladder-stone, the sample would probably have contained crystals, and/or some blood. This is particularly the case when, as the veterinary stated, there had been some manipulation and unusual handling, all necessary for the various stages of the examination.

The most probable cause of Renn’s urinary problems is a polyp in the bladder, a non-cancerous growth. This doesn’t mean that it can’t be a tumour; the doctor noted that since I am often quick to notice changes to my cats, I may have caught a cancer prior to it presenting more characteristics, though she doesn’t believe this to be the case. Nor does a polyp preclude difficulties in the future. It may grow large enough seriously to impede my big boy’s proper bodily functions.

Even with all the worse possibilities, though, the likeliest condition is a polyp. It is also the most favourable, given all the evidence.

Renn is responding decently to the anti-inflammatory drug. Meloxicam, I have learned, may not be as dangerous to the kidneys as previously believed. In any case, if it helps more than hinders, it may be continued, albeit on a less frequent and smaller scale. I will observe Renn’s habits closely over the next few days and report to the veterinary. As well, my friend will return to the hospital for another ultra-sound on the first of February.

While I certainly won’t let down my guard, things appear better for Renn than they had just a few days ago. I don’t anticipate miracles, but continued peace and contentment for a cat heading toward his seventeenth birthday is a real possibility.

Don't Forget the...

Renn received his first dose of anti-inflammatory medicine yesterday. It is a swiftly-acting drug, so the fact that he ate better last evening and this morning may be attributable to that. It doesn’t mean that this will solve his principal problem, of course, since inflammation may be caused by something more serious. But it might give him some relief.

I was lucky that he wet an adequate amount for his required sample last night (perhaps another effect of the anti-inflammatory drug?). I used plastic pellets as litter, and my big boy didn’t worry that there wasn’t enough to cover the floor of the litter-box. It may be that he doesn’t need litter if he feels he must go. (Though the Tabbies from Trout Towne suggested fish-tank gravel for litter. What a great idea! I will be using that if I need to in the future; it’d be re-usable, too.)

Renn’s sample will be delivered to the veterinary hospital this morning. I was thinking that only pet-owners will see nothing amiss with a note taped to the door as a reminder, reading "Don’t forget the cat’s urine”…

So, while big problems may still loom for my big boy, he and I are working on them.

At the Hospital With Renn

Renn went to the hospital today. He has been visiting the litter-boxes a great deal, usually leaving only tiny drops of urine behind. Now and then, he would leave healthier-sized lumps. He did not seem to be in discomfort, and I was certain it was not a blockage. It was simply that, when he needed to go, he didn’t always leave the amount he should.

The veterinary felt a hardness in Renn’s bladder. He was treated with an ultra-sound, and a mass was revealed. It is a puzzle to the doctor, as it was to a second doctor to whom she showed the resulting pictures. The mass does not cast a shadow like a bladder-stone would, nor was it in the place - where the drain out of the bladder is situated - at which cancer normally forms. The veterinary was reluctant to take a biopsy of the mass since, if it were a cancer, the insertion of a needle - or, rather, the retraction of it - would cause the cancer to pull apart and spread.

Renn has been scheduled for another ultra-sound on the first day of February. This will tell us if the mass has grown. In the meantime, he has been prescribed an anti-inflammatory drug to ease any discomfort. I will also be trying to collect a sample of my big boy’s urine at home, for analysis. If Renn experiences greater discomfort, or even if the drug has no effect, I will contact the doctor once more, as the medicine can be harmful in the long-term to Renn’s kidneys. In the short-term, however, it may be beneficial.

In May, Renn will have been with me for fourteen years. Nonetheless, I would be most reluctant to part with my big boy just yet.

As Their World Turns

Another sudden change in behaviour: this weekend, Imogen came out of the bedroom and explored the rest of the apartment. Since she realised that the bedroom was her safe-zone, she has remained pretty much within its walls, except to go to the storeroom’s litter-boxes and, now and then, to visit the bathroom. Two days in a row, she came out, of her own accord, and wandered about other rooms.

Each time, Brazil was sleeping. I suspect Imo knew this from the sounds no one was making. Even so, this is an abrupt turn. I hope she continues it. During our play-time, too, her actions are different: previously staying on the bed to fight with a string-toy, she now uses the floor for a battleground, too.

Miss Silky isn’t any friendlier to the other beasts, though I am letting Brazil come into the bedroom when he so chooses. This is while I am present, as I don’t want Imogen to think she is being abandoned, or that her sanctum isn’t safe anymore. But unless they come at least within eyesight of each other, their attitudes toward one another won’t change.

Life is never static with cats.