The Nevsky's Next Step

There is a plan in place for Neville. He will be switched over to ProZinc insulin, instead of the Lantus glargine that he has been on. The glargine has worked for a year but has lost all its effectiveness, as was related in a previous entry. The Nevsky was on ProZinc once before, until it too lost its potency, but it’s hoped that after a year of being without it, Nev’s body will be ready to accept its commands once more, at least for a while.

The veterinary suggested two other kinds of insulin - Caninsulin and a fast-acting, short-lasting variety made for humans - in case the ProZinc fails in its duty. By then, however, it may be apparent that insulin just isn’t working for my friend. I discussed with the doctor some reasons why insulin would not do its job in a diabetic cat. These will be further explored if the options for insulin have been exhausted.

On Tuesday, I will be having another monitor attached to Neville (the old one being removed at the same time.) This will allow me to see in detail and immediately the effects, if any, of the ProZinc’s injections. He will be started at two and a half units. It will be delivered by syringe, rather than by pen, which has its advantages and disadvantages; in any case, Neville is used to being poked by needles.

I hope this will return his blood-sugars to a healthy level. The Former Thin Man is heading into his retirement years, and he deserves to feel his best.

Neville's New Challenge

Neville’s new blood-glucose sensor has finished its two-week run, and the findings are not good.

The insulin that Nev is being given is having very little effect on his glucose numbers. On some days, there is a slight, almost negligible, drop, a while after his injection; on other days, it may as well be as if I have not given him anything. His numbers remained high throughout each day.

Having re-read some of my blog entries on the Nevsky’s fight with diabetes, I recollected that he switched insulin types from ProZinc to Lantus glargine almost exactly a year ago. The ProZinc had been losing its effect, though its results were more erratic, sometimes giving him a drastic curve, sometimes none at all. The change to glargine had done Nev good. Now, it too is losing its power.

I will discuss this with the veterinary. The options open to us are limited. Controlling the diabetes with diet alone has not been successful, though a good diet does limit the factors that can hurt his numbers. I will suggest switching the Former Thin Man back to ProZinc; there are not many types of insulin to give him. There is Caninsulin, but that is made for dogs, as the name implies; ProZinc is made for cats.

It has been a frustrating fortnight, though I am pleased with the ability of the sensor to tell me what is going on with Neville’s numbers. I would not have had such conclusive proof that his current treatment is impotent without the sensor and monitor, and I am grateful for that. If he is moved to another kind of insulin, I will have another sensor put on him, to monitor the new treatment.

For now, however, I will continue to give Nev his insulin, as weak as it is. It might, after all, be having enough effect to keep things from being even worse. And, to be honest, there is no other option until I speak with the doctor about this worrying situation.

We May Need More Staff

It was a busy evening yesterday at Café Cosy. As I had hoped, Sable came by for a meal, but later, she brought her friend, Arliss.

It was interesting to watch the two of them. The big white and orange fellow remained close by while I placed a bowl of food on the floor of the concrete ditch. Sable was waiting on the steps and, as soon as I withdrew back into the apartment, came down to the food. But she did not eat. She has certainly eaten quite a bit on other occasions, more than what she had consumed this evening. But now, she sat to one side, seemingly waiting. I think Sable was telling her friend, Arliss, to help himself. (I apologise for the very poor quality of the picture; I thought I had taken better.)

Unfortunately, Arliss was more skittish tonight than he has been. There was more noise in the neighbourhood, more activity, and, though none of it was near the ditch, I think it put Arliss on his guard. Eventually, he hurried away. Sable hastened after him.

I left the soft-food outside, thinking that one or both of my customers might return. They did not. Instead, this one showed up. For convenience’s sake, I am calling her a female; I’ve named her Cecile. I have seen her before, but she is very shy, and didn’t remain for the whole meal this time. That was partly my fault; when I moved to take up the food-bowl, she was at the water-bowl (not visible from my angle as I opened the glass door.) That frightened her away.

But I re-charged the soft-food bowl - the nocturnal air was just warm enough to keep it from freezing - and it was licked clean by the morning. It may have Cecile, or Sable and Arliss. It may have been Sable alone. There is another cat who has been by, so timid that I cannot look directly at him without scaring him off; it may have been him. It may not have been a cat at all.

In any case, Café Cosy was busy last night. Though it doesn’t turn over much of a profit, I would not mind seeing our little restaurant so busy every night.

Foiled For Now

The plan had been to take Zofia tomorrow to the veterinary hospital for her spay. The appointment had been made in response to her going into heat on December 18th. Now, her body has disarranged that schedule by going into heat again, less than two weeks after her first session. She started on Saturday, and will, I suspect, judging from her behaviour, finish today. But that won’t give enough time to spay her cleanly and safely on the morrow.

The new appointment is for a week from today: January 9th. Even if her cycle revolves in the same amount of time as it already has, little Miss Zed won’t go into heat again before then.

Ignoring the possibility of unwanted kittens being born and, likely, not having homes in their future, I can’t see why anyone would want not to spay their female cat at the earliest possible time. Even at Zofia’s tender age, it is hardly conducive to human rest and relaxation. Her vocalisations have been subdued compared to the unearthly infant-like wails I’ve heard from adult cats. Nonetheless, the trills and whirrs she almost constantly emits are enough to keep me awake through the night. She remains a fun and active little creature, full of delight and ready for love and attention. The heat cycle seems to magnify all these qualities.

But with luck, and timing, Zofia will not have to worry about such things in another week. My worry will be to keep a five month old kitten from leaping, running, jumping and playing while she recovers from her surgery…

Last Year and This

Another year has ended, and another begun. I was looking back at my blog, which I started in August of 2010, and realised that I had more entries for last year than for any other. The number in each year has grown almost consecutively; 2010 had just thirteen, the first article not even being accompanied by a picture.

I take no credit for having so many entries last year. Indeed, I don’t think it is either a good or bad thing. I think it merely indicates that I thought I had more to write about in 2022 than in other years. Often such numbers come from the arrival and departure of cats. In 2022, Minuet, Horace and Zofia made their appearances in the Cosy Apartment; the first two have departed, in their separate ways. Each event brings at least one story.

I want to express my gratitude to all my readers. Your fondness for my cats is pleasing; they are deserving of such fondness. I want to thank those readers who leave comments; I’ve come to know several of you better through such remarks, and through communication outside the blog, for which too I am grateful.

Truthfully, though, I write simply to tell the world, whether it pays attention or not, about these cats of mine, their adventures, and my adventures with them. Their lives deserve to be remembered, not just for their own sake, but for history’s. I enjoy social history, and have found memoirs of lives, mundane and exciting, to be the most informative of the world that once was. All the cats I have known have influenced the world in their tiny ways. This blog is their graffiti, scrawled on an electronic wall, proclaiming that they were here.

But, before I become too grandiose, I should admit that also I write the blog because it is fun.

Thank you for your attention, and your interest. I should warn you, however, that it serves as encouragement and, barring being crushed by an armoire falling off the back of a truck, being accidentally beheaded in surgery during an alien invasion, or forgetting how to write or how to turn on the computer (as I age, much the most likely danger), I will write some more stories about having ‘three’ cats in 2023.

An Early New Year's Visitor

There was an early New Year’s Eve guest at Café Cosy last night.

I had seen Arliss with Sable a few nights ago but, as usual, he kept his distance. I had recently bought some new cat-food and no one inside liked it, so I have been leaving it outside over-night for any late patron at the café. The temperatures have been bordering on freezing but the food stayed edibly soft during the dark hours, and was always gone by morning. Before dawn today, I was retrieving the empty bowl and saw Arliss over by the property’s fence.

I tapped the bowl and he appeared interested. Unusually, he was without Sable and, just as unusually, he did not run away when I wanted to talk to him. I wondered if it had been he who had been consuming the bowl’s contents in the night, and was now thinking he would be given more. If so, I wasn’t about to disappoint him.

I hurried to put some food in the bowl, and saw that he was waiting, another unprecedented act. He stayed put, a few yards off, while I placed the bowl on the concrete floor of the ditch, and retreated inside. He came right up to the food, which I’d put near the door, and ate it without sign of trepidation (even while being observed by Zofia). After his meal was done, he moved away, apparently satisfied.

I am pleased at this, as this is the first time I have been able to give Arliss soft-food, barring the possibility that he’s been eating from the over-night buffet; in any case, it was the first time he had remained, waiting, for a meal. I would like to get to know him better. From his girth and the condition of his coat, I can’t judge him homeless, though that is not impossible; the fact that he comes around rarely also suggests another, and on-going, source of food, and certainly shelter. But I would like to win his trust, nonetheless. He’s seen that I provide his friend Sable with food; now, he’s had it personally from my hand.

I hope to see more of handsome Arliss in the new year.

Talk to the PAW

I hope everyone is having an enjoyable Christmas. Ours here at the Cosy Apartment has been good. We are getting in a lot of naps and other kinds of relaxation. I have a new plan for Neville’s diabetes, and will let readers know more of that once I see some results, one way or another.

In the meantime, let me tell you about this guy. I have noticed something about Hector. When he is presented with food he does not like, he will, after sniffing at it, flick one of his forepaws in the air. It’s much like a dismissive wave of a human’s hand; an indication of disdain at what he has been given. He won’t do it after he has eaten an amount of enjoyable food, even if he leaves some in the bowl. It occurs when he is asked to consume something which does not meet his standards, or when I should know that he is sated, and wants for no more. Then I receive the paw of disdain.

There was a time when this guy was homeless, and eating scraps, you know…