It didn’t take long before Portia subscribed to the Cosy Apartment tradition of coming down with something that required a visit to the doctor. I think my new foster-cat has a urinary tract infection.
I have been finding that someone has been wetting just in front of the litter-box in the library. At first, I thought it was Tucker, as I did, in fact, catch him wetting where he shouldn’t in the storeroom. The roly poly does this when a new cat comes to stay and, while I will continue to watch for signs in him of something physical, I think it is a matter of emotional stress. It eventually resolves itself.
But yesterday, I noticed Portia sitting in front of the litter-box. I figured that she would use it in her own time. Not long after, I discovered that someone had wet on the soaker pads laid out in front of the box. Last night, I caught Po in the act. This morning and this afternoon, she repeated the performance. As well, yesterday, she hid under my bed for an hour or so, which she has not done before. Something was amiss.
Portia will go to the hospital tomorrow, being dropped off in the early morning and retrieved later in the day. This will allow her bladder to fill even if she arrives with it empty, thus giving the hospital staff a chance of obtaining a sample of her urine.
I feel bad, of course, that she must go to the hospital after only nine weeks with me, but it must be done, and with little delay. From the frequency of her misaimed wetting, I think she must be feeling uncomfortable, and the infection won’t heal on its own. Hopefully, in a few days or a week, Po will be going to the litter-box less often, and doing this rather more so.