Chapter 748, in which I Join the Highland Light Infantry

I like reading memoirs from decades ago. They provide great insight into how life in the past was lived on a daily basis, and frequently contain amusing episodes. I recall reading the autobiography of a British Army officer which told of a fellow cadet who, when passing out of Sandhurst, filled in the standard questionnaire regarding the regiments into which he wanted to be commissioned. He wrote “Anything except the Highland Light Infantry.” It was indicative that the higher powers had a sense of humour that the cadet was sent off to Glasgow and the Highland Light Infantry.

I have long advocated for middle-aged and older cats. Everyone chooses kittens. They are cute, cuddly, wobbly and have high squeaky voices. It’s the oldsters who need homes more. Kittens are rambunctious, overly energetic and troublesome. I have always stayed away from kittens.

I’ve now been sent to the Highland Light Infantry.

Meet Echo.

She was squawking horribly behind the building where I work. There is a colony of feral cats there, all black and white, except for a couple of grey tabbies. They are all very shy of people except the man who feeds them. Echo appeared and definitely knew that people were the ones with the food and comfort. Far from shy, she kept trying to slip through the doorway into the building. We think that she was abandoned with her siblings. They were all rescued by someone here, all but one, an orange youngster, who could not be found at the time. She has been now.

Someone termed Echo and her brothers and sisters ‘feral’, though of course they, and she, are not. I think the term sometimes is confused with ‘homeless’. They are all socialised, so they had a home at one point, and it could not have been long ago, for Echo is only about four months old (so I estimate). Perhaps a child pleaded for a kitten, did not take care of it and the parents did not want to. It may be known by some that the feral colony behind my work-place is being fed, so that presented a solution. Abandonment is never a good solution for the cat.

Echo was almost panicky, hoping for someone to let her in where she felt safe, so, since no one else was going to help her, I felt I had to. The only way to do that was to provide her with refuge. I brought her home. Having another cat live with me was not last on my list of things to do, but it was near the bottom. However, there was, I felt, no alternative. She is currently in my bathroom.

Once there, she wailed and cried, cried and wailed. Then she started to settle on my lap. She purred and cried and wailed. Then she purred and talked. Then she just purred. She purred and rolled onto her back and kneaded the air. She ate hungrily once she realised she was safe. She drank thirstily. I have no idea if she knows the purpose of a litter-box, but there is one with her.

The other beasts are curious but not put off their habits by the newcomer. Because of her recent problems, hardly finished, Cammie was uppermost in my concerns, but she is unfazed. Readers will be glad to know that she is eating well: her appetite for soft-food is returning, and she is asking for – and receiving – hard-food whenever she wants it. (I will still be talking to my regular veterinary about her condition. I have called the emergency clinic to prompt them to forward the x-ray. I am annoyed that they have not, and will speak to them again tomorrow.)

For now, there is Echo. Because foster-homes are at a premium here, I will be keeping her until one is found, whenever that may be. Being a youngster, she may even go straight into an adoption, but even so, that will not be possible for a week or two while her health is examined.

In any case, like the officer sent to the regiment for which he did not really care, I will do what I can for those for whom I am responsible. I wonder if that officer found his new situation not half as bad as he had anticipated.

Recovery and Relief

Another long weekend, another crisis for Cammie. Fortunately, like the others, the path through this one appears to be clearing. We are not out of the woods yet, but we are heading in the right direction.

There was a very small amount of vomit on the sitting room rugs this morning, which I attribute to Cammie, but it was a mere burp compared to what had gone before. The princess is eating on her own, though it is not enough for my liking, and I continue to supplement her diet with Recovery-and-water, given by syringe. Oddly, her choice is for the hard-food, rather than the soft, of which she is eating only a little bit of what is offered. I have given her another portion of a Cerenia pill, the effects of which should last until tomorrow, when I will have the option of giving her another. I likely will, but I want to consult with my regular veterinaries first. (As an aside, I have learned that, so far, Cammie is not difficult when taking a pill; she doesn’t like the notion, but, as with much of her behaviour, her respeonses to receiving medicine are largely bluster.)

As suggested by some insightful readers of this blog, I will make sure that Cammie’s regular doctors see the x-ray taken at the emergency clinic on Sunday. I also want to talk to them about irritable bowel syndrome. I know nothing about that condition, and had not considered it as a cause of the princess’s troubles. I am willing to look at all possibilities.

In the meantime, I have learned of new weapons in the fight against Cammie’s reactions to what I will continue for now to assume to be an allergic reaction. An ant-acid was given yesterday, along with the Cerenia. The latter drug, in pill form, might have to be given for several days following an injection, and so I will always ask for some pills along with the injection, in future. I will also bring home some subcutaneous fluids, if Cammie needs to visit the doctor again.

For now, I can tell that my little Siamese is feeling better. Not only does she want food, however small the amount, but her behaviour in general is more satisfactory, more indicative of recovery. I will report on any progress made, especially anything new that the doctor may tell me. But for now, I will leave those reading this with my thanks for their help and good wishes.

The Worrisome Weekend, Updated

Cammie is home from the veterinary. She received another injection of Cerenia, as well as some sub-cutaneous fluids. I have some Cerenia in pill form to give her, if need be. I will be force-feeding more Recovery into her, in small amounts, since she has missed so many meals. She needs both the nutrition and the fluids. I will give her a dose in a couple of hours, and then see that it stays down, before providing more.

An x-ray was taken, as the doctor felt a “thickening” of a part of the intestines, but nothing abnormal was revealed. I suppose the photo couldn’t have hurt, but I don’t really have faith in a doctor who looks younger than the jar of jam I have in my cupboard. When the veterinary technician came out with Cammie’s pills, I thought it was ‘bring your child to work day’, and I looked behind her for her mother or father.

If any more needs to be done to the princess – perish the thought – I hope to have my regular veterinaries do it. I will be confident that there won’t be any more problems after today.

The Worrisome Weekend Continues

Cammie continues poorly. She ate a little yesterday, and I forced some Recovery-and-water into her by syringe. She threw up after attempting to eat some hard-food on her own. I gave her half of the Cerenia pill I had brought home from the veterinary hospital, and soon after that was when I gave her the Recovery. It stayed down, as did some more of the same later on. So she had some nutrition, though of course not nearly enough.

During the night, she threw up again. I gave her the other half of the Cerenia this morning, but that was puked up again very soon after. Nothing is staying down right now. I am taking her to the hospital in an hour and a half. Unfortunately, there is no one on call at our regular hospital, so I had to make an appointment at the local emergency clinic, which is much more expensive. However, it needs to be done.

This is her worst episode. Each time she vomits, she is more reluctant to eat. I am sure she is hungry, as evinced by her small efforts to consume hard-food last night. Previously, a single shot of Cerenia had been enough to put her digestion back on course; not this time.

Thank you for all your thoughts regarding my princess. She is locked in the bathroom, since she hides a great deal now, and I want to be able to catch her easily for transportation to her appointment. Her spirit remains good, even in her misery. I just spent a half-hour with her, and she lie on my chest, purring. Continued wishes for her health would not be unappreciated.

Cammie, Again

Cammie is suffering through another of her digestive episodes. This one seems worse than the others.

It began as usual, earlier this week: my princess throwing up the food she had eaten that day. Nothing would stay down, but she continued to throw up; eventually, the result was just bile. As on previous occasions, I tried applying slippery elm, but again it did not work. She continued to throw up, though this time what was brought up was what I was putting into her by syringe. I decided to take Cammie to the veterinary hospital for an injection of Cerenia, to calm her stomach.

Though the last time, she received the injection without much fuss, now, I was told that she needed an examination first, because Cerenia is a prescription medicine. I know that a prescription could very well be given without an examination, but that wasn’t going to happen this time. And there was no appointment available on this side of next week. However, I was told that I could drop Cammie off and a doctor would look at her between appointments.

This arrangement proved satisfactory. Cammie was examined and nothing was found amiss with her, though she had lost weight. She always does during these episodes; when she doesn’t eat, her poundage drops drastically. She was given the shot of Cerenia.

Returned home, my princess was restless. She drank tiny amounts of water, but not enough to make up for what she had been missing. She wouldn’t eat anything that was offered. But routine is a friend to cats, and when the usual time arrived for snacks, she ate a small amount. She did again at bed-time. Then came the waiting.

The insidious aspect of this illness is that Cammie will not vomit her food immediately. It happens hours later. If it happens long enough subsequent to her meals, the nutrition will at least get to where it is needed. But that isn’t always the case. I wake up whenever I hear one of the beasts wretching in the night. So it was that Cammie woke me about 5.10 the next morning. I found only a small pool of white, foamy bile. There was a bit on her mouth. She had just thrown it up. This meant that the small portions of food she’d eaten at snack-time and bed-time had made it through her system. But it also meant that she is still throwing up - and that she had no interest in the hard-food I had left out during the night.

She ate some Fancy Feast for breakfast, but not nearly enough to keep her going. I isolated her in the bathroom this morning, so I can easily determine if she vomits, and put some water and Recovery into her by syringe. I worry that giving her this food and water will cause her to throw it up, but I felt I had no choice: she needs nutrition and she needs fluids, and I may as well give it to her while she’s under Cerenia’s influence. I will go home at lunch-time again to see the results.

I feel that if my princess can get through this day without bringing anything up, the weekend will look bright.

Let Us Begin with a Tail, or Two

Renn is ambivalent about Parker. Sometimes, he will creep up to my foster-cat and sniff him, before trotting away, as if he were a boy who had touched something he shouldn’t have. Other times - if, for instance, he is blocked by the orange-boy from going somewhere - he will give his low whining growl. Then again, lying near to Parker usually poses no problem.

That was the case here. Parker was on my lap as I relaxed on the couch in the sitting room. Renn jumped up to occupy his usual corner, though he was wary of Parker's presence. But neither cat minded their tails touching, despite my newest roommate’s habit of slapping his tail even in repose, no matter what his mood.

This lasted for several minutes. After that, my big boy departed for lonelier spots. The sturdy-boy may But that must start somewhere - even at a cat’s tail end.