I just got back from the Vet. Five days ago Cara weighed 2.lbs 14 oz.-down from 3.00 pounds the week before.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Cara (with Polly behind her) and I try to juggle getting a photo with snuggling.

TODAY CARA WEIGHS 3 POUNDS, 7 OUNCES. THIS IS A GAIN OF 9 OUNCES IN FIVE DAYS!!!

THIS IS A LOT OF WEIGHT TO GAIN IN SUCH A SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME, but Cara was operating on a big deficit. As you recall, her sister is almost five pounds, so Cara has a lot of catching up to do.

Super-Deb was “speechless” when she saw the weight gain as Cara sat quietly on the baby scale. None of us can put a finger on what was the cause of her being able to keep food down.

We're left with one or a combination of different reasons why Cara is keeping her food down:

1. She was de-wormed with MANY different de-wormers. The last two were Panacur and Albon. Maybe one of them did the trick?

2. She was given 13 days of a 2 week regime of hardcore antibiotics, but the day we stopped, she started to eat again. Either she was sickened by the drugs or the drugs helped. That said, she has been vomiting for much longer than 2 weeks and she's been on different antibiotics for the better part of the last two months.

3. Putting her on a simple diet of chicken baby food, slightly watered down to start, then slowly adding a simple grain-free canned to her food. The ratio of baby food to canned is changing until she is on 100% canned food. So far, so good.

4. She's been given some pro-biotics but not enough to make me think that had a lot to do with this weight gain.

5. She was separated from her family so she would not have to compete for food. This allowed her to eat at her own pace, though, initially she still gobbled her food as fast as she could.

6. No one knows this, but I gave Cara one treatment of a homeopathic remedy the day she stopped vomiting. I think it did something amazing for Cara.

So we will never really know for sure, why Cara was so sick, for so long. She is still NOT OUT OF THE WOODS. If she can't keep 100% solid food down, then we have to look into getting an endoscopy and we have to go back to our fears that Cara DOES have PRAA.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson. Polly and Chester don't care what Cara weighs as long as they get some good food, too.

Right now I'm simply going to just smile and take comfort in Cara's remarkable improvement and hope the trend continues.

Cara's spirit is as big as the world. Her green eyes glint with mischief. As I hold her, a deep purr kicks in, celebrating the simple joy of being alive. Her chest rises, quickly falls, then rises again. When her breath leaves her, I can see her ribs. When I pet her back, I can feel her spine. She is so small and underweight, yet her drive to live is so strong, so vital, how can we lose her?

If we can't find the answer to WHY Cara is not able to keep her food down, we WILL lose our little girl.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Cara's ultrasound didn't give us anything to go on. Not a clue. Things seem to be normal. It's not perfect science. It can't detect everything, but so far x-rays and the ultrasound tell us nothing.

After a week at the Vet, I brought Cara home. That night she started to vomit. I tried to be extra careful, only giving her a small amount of food. Some times it would stay down, many times, not. I didn't know if it was because I was giving her too many tiny meals or the wrong food, or I was waiting too long between meals. I just couldn't figure it out.

What did seem to be clear, was that continuing to give her antibiotics was NOT a good idea. She's on a very heavy dose of them to stave off this damn URI she's had since she was barely a few weeks old. She seems clear of the URI and yesterday I stopped giving her some of her meds. With one antibiotic left, even that made her vomit after I gave it to her.

I called East Lake, one of the Vet's I work with in Georgia. They told me that in her records they noted that Cara was having difficulty eating and that they thought she had something STUCK IN HER THROAT! What?!!! And they didn't do more to find out what was going on? At the time, Cara was being syringe fed because she wouldn't eat on her own. Polly and Chester would not eat on their own, either. They were having a tough time being weaned. Maybe that was it? Or maybe not.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

I took Cara back to see Dr. Larry this afternoon. The one thing we haven't done is run a blood profile on Cara to see if there's anything going on there. Even if it shows nothing alarming, any future Vet care is probably going to need recent blood work as a prerequisite to treating her.

I told Dr. Larry about what I'd found out in Georiga. He called his partner, Dr. Andrew, to come into the exam room to talk about Cara since Dr. Andrew is also on her case. What I didn't expect was what came next.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

They wanted to talk about what to feed Cara and what else might work for her, since what I've been giving her has made her vomit sometimes. They BOTH said to feed her DRY FOOD! Here it comes, the big talk I've been trying to avoid. Feeding cats a raw diet or even just grain-free canned is like being part of a religion whose followers are persecuted for their beliefs. I felt my blood pressure tick upwards.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

I'm not the sort of person who does well with conflict. I never know the perfect thing to say to make my case. I tried to be respectful, but here they are, telling me they see cats do great on dry food and here I am, knowing from their OWN LIPS they do NOT get more than a few hours (brought to you buy big industrial pet food manufacturers) nutritional training in Vet school. So who are they to tell me to feed crap to my sick kitten?

They said that cats used to be obligate carnivores, but not so much now. That's bull-hit. They wouldn't even accept that feeding grain, an irritant that cats cannot digest, would be bad for a cat with stomach problems.

Then they said that why don't I just try it. Spend $5 on some dry food instead of spending $1000.00 to have Cara 'scoped.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Really? Really? Do they think I'm as close minded as they are to feeding a wholesome diet to cats? I was so offended, I almost walked out. I would feed Cara spaghetti and meatballs if it would help her.

I kept going back to the fact that Cara's been on 8? 9? antibiotics over her 17 weeks of life. She needs to be on NOTHING other than a bland diet. I said to them, would you eat a bowl of cereal after you had a stomach ache or eat something bland? They went back to the dry food debate.

Cara had her blood drawn. I asked them to tell me how much food she needs to eat so I know what the target is. Cara has lost 2 ounces. This is really scary. She now weighs 2.14. Her sister is TWICE her size and Chester is pushing 5 pounds. I just wanted to get OUT of there. Just give me the info-let me leave.

Both Vets tried to be respectful and kind, but they also kept reminding me that they had many years of being in Vet practice-which again, great for diagnosing ailments, not so great at understanding feline nutrition! It left me feeling like I'm just a person who “takes great care of their cats and is the best and they love me and I'm great, BUT...they have all these years on me.” (hey, don't placate me, ok?!). How many years have I been studying and learning about feeding grain-free? FIVE?!! I know that counts for nothing even though I've cured a diabetic, fixed life-long breathing problems, unblocked a blocked up cat, reduced obesity in an overweight cat, greatly improved blood test results in just my cats-not to mention the other cats I've helped with IBD and other chronic conditions. They don't see that. I'm just a lay person on a rant.

I think I need to start looking for a new Vet. Even writing this makes me feel sick. It's akin to me breaking up with Sam after almost two decades of life together. I don't take this feeling lightly, at all, but I can't go somewhere where we part company so seriously. Proper nutrition is the basis for good, lifelong health. Why Vets don't start from this basic point when they do an exam is beyond my comprehension. "What are you feeding your cat?" should be one of the FIRST questions a Vet asks about their patients-not something that's not even considered.

Then, the final straw. Super-Deb, who I trust as if she were my own beloved sister, told me to feed Cara the dry food. Just do it. For her (Super-Deb not Cara). See how it goes.

I left the Vet feeling like I was going to scream and burst into tears (which I did after I left). I drove over to the pet food store and bought Cara some more grain-free canned food and I bought a tiny bag of premium dry cat food. I felt like a Judas.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

When we got home, I gave Cara the dry food. She seemed interested in it, but really only picked at it and left half of the tiny portion on her plate. I don't think she understood it was food. After a few minutes, I let her out of the cat carrier (I lock her in it when she eats so the others don't bother her). She seemed fine. I started to fear she was going to do great on dry food and maybe I was wrong, but I just couldn't face it.

A moment later, Cara jumped off the bed and found a plate that had, literally, a pea-sized, if even that big, bit of raw food on it. A meager leftover part of a full dish that I had just given to her sister. She licked it up. Seemed fine. Then..all of a sudden...the straining, neck twisting and stretching started. The horrible gurgling sound..the vomit. All the dry food, the tiny dot of raw amid mucus and foam came out.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

Was it the dry food that made her sick or the bit of raw? I offered more dry food to her, but she wouldn't eat it. That's my girl. Chester was playing with it. New toy, not nutrition!

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

An hour later I gave Cara chicken baby food. She ate it up, purred and laid in the sunshine. No vomiting. I have to trust my gut and my experience. I'm going to give Cara time. I'm not going to do anything else to her for the rest of the week, other than give her baby food, then after a few days, some canned grain-free mixed in and a bit of pro biotic to help her flora balanced...see if she keeps it down.

©2011 Robin A.F. Olson.

For Cara, I will slay dragons, but right now I need a moment for myself. The hours and hours of watching her, cleaning up her vomit, measuring food, worrying, have taken a toll. I thought I was to a place where I could handle these ups and downs, but I think it's cumulative. Between my own cat battling cancer, the sickly kittens and Cara's tender tummy, I hit a wall. I'll get us through this somehow, but I'm not sure what scars will be left behind as a painful souvenir of these difficult days.

Bob's been home for almost a week since he had surgery to remove the right lobe of his liver. We found out it was cancerous, but now removed, it could be considered to no longer be a threat to his health. Of course many of you know, they also biopsied one of his mesenteric lymph nodes, where they found he had lymphoma. As in humans, the amount and severity of cancer is rated. In humans, they call it “stages,” and in cats, it's called “grades.” Bob's cancer is “low grade,” which means we may have caught it very early on in the game. Dr. Weisman said it could be a blessing in disguise because if she hadn't done the surgery, the lymphoma would have grown unchecked until it was probably too late.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob a few days after surgery.

At least Bob has options and I'm glad I didn't wait another month to see how homeopathy would work for him. He just would have gotten sicker.

There are two great candidates to help Bob with the next phase of treatments. It's ironic that they are almost exactly the same distance from here-about 50 miles. Dr. Post was referred to me by Dr Weisman and the other, Dr. Impellizeri, who runs the Vet. Speciality Center of the Hudson Valley was glowingly referred to me by Dr. Larry as well as Super Deb-who used to WORK for this Vet. I have appointments with both Vets, but am leaning towards Dr. Impellizeri.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Enjoying freedom from his pen and a nap near my space heater.

I'm really grateful to live in a place where I have choices and don't have to drive Bob hundreds of miles for treatment. It's important to me to be careful about what Bob must endure and the value of the stress on him versus the beneficial results. I find myself treating him as gently and lovingly as I can. He feels like he's made of glass.

It's been a long week, but Bob continues to recover. He's eating well and some times looks perky, though he is tired and sleeps a lot. He loves his heated bed and his dehydrated chicken treats. His belly turned black and blue from the surgery, but that is starting to fade. Tomorrow we visit Dr. Weisman to have his staples removed.

What is very frustrating is that Bob caught Nora's upper respiratory infection. I gave Bob some homeopathic treatments and he seems less afflicted. I certainly hope that this is the case. The last thing Bob needs is to be sick with something else.

Last night, I let Bob out of his pen. He was glad to be free from confinement and went right back into his old routine. He sits quietly, in “his spot” and waits for meals to be served. He sleeps in his favorite places, too. He gave me a real thrill by climbing the stairs to our bedroom, then not only did he sleep in a cat bed next to my side of the bed, in the middle of the night he climbed into the "human" bed and slept with us all night. At one point I got up to see if he was on the floor and was surprised to see him flanked by Spencer and Blitzen at my feet. I didn't want to go back to sleep. I wanted to just watch him and have the joy last of seeing Bob surrounded by his family, resting comfortably, maybe even happy.

He's a good boy, that Bob.

I know this road. I've walked it more times than I care to recall. It's the moment at which I realize the time I have with one of my cats is coming to an end. The road is full of hopeful moments that will ultimately lead to despair and to the final choice we must make for our cat, one day.

I hate this road more than I can say. It eats at my heart and taxes my reserves. I try to prepare myself, but there is no preparing for death. It comes, as it does for all of us. We either accept it and find peace or fight and have the same end, no matter what.

On Saturday I got Bob's blood test results. His liver function, one test indicated by his ALT, was stratospherically high. A normal value would be 10-100. Bob was at 1240.

Other liver values were also very high, save for his Bilirubin, no it's not a sandwich, it's a blood test. That test result was normal. This is a good thing.

From Cat World, Australia, I found this description of Bilirubin:

Bilirubin: This is a major breakdown product of red blood cells. When red blood cells wear out they are trapped in the spleen and destroyed, releasing bilirubin into the blood. This type of bilirubin is called unconjugated. This bilirubin is transported in the blood to the liver, where it is taken up & conjugated (joined with glycuronic acid). This conjugated form may either be stored in the liver cells or excreted into the bile. Bilirubin levels are increased in cats with liver disease, gallbladder disease or have excessive destruction of red blood cells (known as hemolysis).

What do these numbers mean? See THIS web site for some helpful guidelines.

Then the kicker came today. Bob had an ultrasound done of his heart and abdomen. I thought I was going to be able to sit in during the ultrasound, but Dr. K said it would be quicker if he was on his own. Super Deb assured me she'd be with him and answer any questions. I kept thinking about this and that thing I wanted to make sure he knew, but in the end, nothing I was worried about mattered.

I took Super Deb's dog, Jayne for a walk, instead of twiddling my thumbs in the waiting room. It was freezing cold outside with a bitter wind. I tried to shake off the fear of what I would find out in a few more minutes. I tried to not cry thinking about it. I know as any good cat-parent knows-something is wrong, I just didn't know what it was. I didn't really WANT to know.

When I returned to Dr. Larry's office, grabbed a magazine about celebrities and their fabulous lives and pretended to look at it. I saw Super Deb. She wouldn't make eye contact with me. Then Dr. Larry arrived to start his day. He didn't even look towards the waiting room. Maybe it was not a big deal that he didn't look, but it seemed like no one wanted to even give me a hint as to what was going on.

Sam arrived with Petunia and Nora. He sat next to me, but we didn't speak. It's been a common thread here for a very long time. We only speak when necessary. Something is going on with Sam. I can guess, but he won't talk to me about it. Instead he hides in his office in the basement and plays his guitar. He mumbles this and that. He helps out around the house, in silence. Each day I grow a little more resentful, more angry. I am shut out and alone. I didn't do anything wrong. I can't wait forever for his life to be in a place where he feels like being a partner to me again. I'm still suffering from the car accident, in tremendous pain, but he does nothing. No comforting. No nothing. With all the stress I have about Bob, he only taps my shoulder or brushes my hand. When I need him most, he is the furthest away. I have to ask myself how many more years can this go on? What happened to having joy? Companionship? Even a dear friendship? For so long I have tried to encourage him to trust me, to talk to me, to give him guidance and support, but I am tired of trying.

So, Sam is there, but not there. I am there, but wishing I was somewhere else.

Petunia is getting a dental. One of her molars has a HOLE in it! Was THIS what was causing her to go on a pee-storm throughout the house? Fight with the other cats? Did she also have a urinary tract infection or impacted anal glads? While under anesthesia we'd be finding out. Maybe after all these years, I'd finally have a true end to the inappropriate urination going on in my home.

Nora was there to check her foot. We thought she had ringworm, but turns out she did not. She has some sort of fungal infection on one foot. It hasn't spread. We've treated it and it's getting better. But what about BOB??! Will someone please TELL ME what is GOING ON?

Dr. Larry took a deep breath. That was all he had to do. I knew it was bad news and he was preparing himself to speak.

Bob's heart is normal, which is very good, but...

Fun with ultrasound results.

As you can see, above, the many LONG words that I can't make heads or tails of spell out that Bob has a 5 cm mass present in the right lobe of his liver. It is not possible to tell if it's a cancer or if it's a benign tumor that could be treated or removed surgically.

With FIV+ and being a senior cat, Bob may not be a good candidate for surgery. He may have cancer and if they do the surgery they will open him up, then say they have to put him down. That it would not be fair to wake him up when he will only live a little while longer, anyway. It's a big crap shoot.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob ponders his future (on his new blanket from Jennifer)

Thanks to one of my readers who works with FIV+ and Feline Leukemia positive cats, she told me something shocking:

...for any kitty that has been tested since the beginning of this year with the new IDEXX 3-way test (FIV/FeLV/HW), you cannot trust ANY positive result on the FIV or FeLV component: incredibly high rate of false positives, confirmed by retests with the western blot for FIV or the IFA for FeLV. the true positive rate on retest is the normal, VERY LOW, percentage. (and, of course, the FeLV component only tests for EXPOSURE, and most cats are able to process the virus out of their systems, which is why retesting is imperative. usually, the retest should be done 90-120 days after last exposure, but with the nationwide problems on the new test, we-who-get-the-panicked-calls-to-place-these-cats are advising that cats be retested immediately. (IDEXX does know about the problem, and will admit it to vets; however, tho they've asked for the names and contact info for those who have stats--national rescues, and special-needs sanctuaries--they've never followed up when they were provided with same.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen and Nicky try to cheer Bob up.

Even though Bob was tested years ago, this is the time to make SURE he is FIV+ because that will effect his ability to get a surgeon to take on his case. Because he was not neutered at an appropriate age, he got FIV. This is my Mother's fault and I will never forgive her for not caring for her cat. His life would have been so much better if he'd been neutered sooner and not left outdoors to get into fights with other territorial males.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen decides to lick Bob's head while Nicky is...Nicky.

I started to cry when I got the news...big, shaky tears. I tried not to cry, but he knew I couldn't hold back. Dr. Larry rubbed my arm and told me about a woman whose dog had the same thing Bob does. That he opened the dog up and saw the mass and called the owner and said he should put the dog down. The mass was too big. The dog would die anyway. She was going through a bad divorce. The dog was all she had. She demanded he cut the mass off-so he took half the liver. The dog lived...another two and a half YEARS. But Bob's not that dog and Bob could have cancer and Bob has FIV+ and he's a senior...blah blah blah...

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen being cute, as usual.

I just wanted to fall over, curl up in a ball and weep. But that won't help Bob get better or live a bit longer, at least.

So I asked a few questions, then left the exam room. The first thing I saw was Moonpie's face! His new owner, as promised, brought Moonie and Patty to meet Dr. Larry now that they are adopted. I couldn't have been happier to see their friendly faces. I took Moonie out of his cat carrier and held him. He sat comfortably in my arms. Both cats meowed furiously at me. I hope they weren't asking me to take them home. I wanted to, but they will be happy in their new home one day. Right now they're doing well, but are still scared. Their new owner says that each day the calm down a bit more and become a bit more cuddly. With three young boys to play with, it's a big change for them. I told her to give it a month and that I'm always there for her whenever she had a question. She told me to come visit them any time. It would be too tempting to sneak them back home with me, but it was really GOOD to see them again.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. My boy, Bob.

We loaded Bob into the car, alongside Nora and drove separately home. I got Bob fed and gave him his liver medicine. He ate well, then went to his heated bed for a nap. It was just like any other day, completely unremarkable, save for the part that I know there may not be many more such unremarkable days ahead.

The other day I noticed that Bob looked dramatically thinner. It seemed to happen overnight. I know that Bob's a senior and seniors always seem to lose that padding in either side of their back, near their hips. I tried not to freak out. Bob is eating well and has some “spunk.” Even goes after Blitzen to play once in awhile. Since we're at the tail end (pardon the pun) of a rash of upper respiratory here, I thought I'd have Bob checked out. He's vomited a few times, but not often enough to concern me and his eyes seem a bit sunken.

This morning I took Bob and Petunia to visit Dr. Larry. I thought it would go fairly smoothly for Bob. He's been in pretty good shape for a senior with FIV+. Then Super-Deb weighed him. He's lost over ONE POUND since September.

Then Dr. Larry started to feel Bob's abdomen. He had an odd look on his face. My heart sank.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, his usual calm self waiting for his X-ray results.

It wasn't that he felt a specific mass, but something didn't feel quite right so he had Super Deb take him to get X-rayed. Dr. Larry stepped out of the exam room. My heart started to pound in my chest. I had a flashback to 8 years ago when Dr. Larry was gone for a good 20 minutes, supposedly looking at x-rays of my cat, Squeegee. I think it took that long because he didn't want to tell me her cancer had spread to her lungs and that she only had a few months left to live.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob's X-ray. The area in the center, left is the area of concern.

I love Bob so much. That he was my Mother's cat, makes him even more precious to me. He's the last reminder I have of her, though I have to add, she NEVER took Bob to the Vet. We used to fight about it. That's why Bob has FIV+ now. He was left outdoors during the day and he wasn't neutered until he was well into adulthood. I managed to bully my Mother into getting it done, but by then it was too late for Bob. I realize how ironic it is to have a cat that reminds me of fighting with my mother, but I'm more devoted to making sure Bob has the BEST Vet care because of how poorly he was treated in the past.

The x-rays showed something wasn't quite right. Dr. Larry talked about cancer or a benign liver tumor that is completely operable or something else...I started to cry. I didn't want to but I couldn't help it. I know Bob won't live forever. None of us will. But I want Bob to live forever. Is that too much to ask?

They pulled blood and I'll have results tomorrow. Bob's always had high liver values, called ALT, so it wouldn't be a surprise that there is something going on with his Liver. Super Deb just called me to let me know that they pulled some strings and a very well respected radiologist is going to be giving Bob an ultrasound on Tuesday-far sooner than I had hoped.

So now I wait and try not to freak out when I don't have all the information, but I can't help it. It's Bob.

Not Bob.

Please.

Here at Covered in Cat Hair, we're not 100% about cats! We love all animals...okay, maybe porcupines, not so much.

Next weekend, I'll be joining my cat-sisters, Jennifer and her real life sister, Lauren (who for some reason for the past 3 years, I thought was named, LAURA?!) to the Farm Sancutary's 2010 Walk for Animals which is being held ALL OVER THE UNITED STATES! In fact, if you'd like to join us, or any group near your hometown, hit the link, above, and find a group to join in the fun.

Farm Sanctuary is a national, non-profit animal protection organization. Each year they rescue, rehabilitate and provide lifelong care for hundreds of animals rescued from factory farms, stockyards and slaughterhouses. In addition to operating the shelters, they work to gain legal protection for animals used in food production and to raise public awareness about factory farm cruelty and cruelty-free alternatives.

Here comes the fun part. I'm asking for SMALL donations to sponsor my athletic enterprise. Right now I have raised NO MONEY. I am completely embarrassed! If for no other reason than to help me save face, would you mind donating like...I dunno...$5 to my walk? If LOTS of you donate, then maybe it will add up and this will not be a WALK OF SHAME!

DONATE HERE if you want to help your poor, shammed cat-saving friend. If you don't donate, I will still like you, but I might eat a burger after the walk just to be spiteful.

P.S. and I'm talking a DOG with me on the walk! Super-Deb is gonna loan me her most precious pup, Jayne Dog! Between actually leaving my house, exercising and being around a dog...this could change my life, FOREVER!

I had every intention of taking the kittens to the Vet, mostly so that Dr. M could compare them to tiny Cinnamon, but not do anything else with them, since they seem to be fine. Cin was the one whose eye bothered her and who is skin-and-bones skinny. Just having the Vet look at one kitten could not cost much. Of course, that was not to be.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Waiting to see Dr. M. while Dr. Larry lollygags in ITALY.

The kittens were a definite hit with everyone at the newly-almost-done-with-remodling Maple Ridge Animal Clinic. I was sad that Dr. Larry didn't decide to scrub his family trip to ITALY, just to take care of my kittens, but I'll have to get over that.

These kits are delightful. After the initial “ooo-ing” and “ahh-ing” was over, Miss Amber brought us into the exam room, put the carrier onto the floor and opened the door. One by one each kitten shot out of their confines and began to race and sniff around the room. Cin ran to the back of one of the exam tables, into a TINY space where she was able to collect a bit of fuzz and give us a good scare. If she had been timid, I doubt we would have been able to get her out of that space! A moment later she was bored with her confines and jumped out and continued to run around with the others.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Super Deb giving Sugar Pie a lift, while trying not to fall in love with her.

Miss Amber began to weigh the cats. Cin is up to 1 lb 2oz, which is up from being less than a pound a week ago, but still about 6 ozs less than her SISTERS..and yes it is confirmed, I have a GIRL CLUB!

Weighing the cats was a good indicator of age, which is at about 6 weeks. I began to feel some dread as each cat had their temp taken and we discussed what should be done for the kittens. That's when I realized this simple visit was going to cost some bucks. Ugh. Then, Dr. M. came into the room and started to talk about testing, more shots, more meds...ho boy..here we go...and I don't get a discounted rate, (because I haven't asked and because I'm not a Non-Profit just yet and because I'm scared to ask, so I have to feel the situation out when Dr. Larry gets back from his trip) so this is going to hurt.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Yodel and Sugar Pie enjoy running around while their sisters get weighed.

Cinnamon's temp was a bit low, but not dangerously so. The stool samples came back. One tested negative for anything and one Elisa tested positive for Giardia. Dr. M wants me to treat all the kittens for about a week and said that this may be why ALL of them feel very boney. What is weird is they don't have the runs! For such little kittens they have really nice stool. Nice size and shape. Not mushy or even that smelly. Maria and I have been giving the kittens Bene-Bac, which may be keeping their digestive tract in better condition? One thing's for certain, the cats LOVE IT, so getting them to eat it is not a problem. And yes, if you foster cats, you need to know about the beauty of a nice stool. Many kittens have lots of intestinal parasites. Add to that, transitioning from their mama's milk over to cat food and odds are you'll be seeing mooshy poop-and with kittens that can be a dangerous thing if it doesn't resolve.

The other thing I learned was that because I wasn't sure how old the kittens were when they were pulled out of Henry County, I opted to let the vet in GA decide if they should be started on FVRCP shots. Well, that was a waste of time because they were too young. Now we have to start the series all over again. So each kitten got a shot, which really hurt poor Cin. and which didn't bother Sugar Pie a bit. The shots will be repeated again in 4 weeks and 4 weeks after that. They also should be re-snap tested for FIV and Feline Leukemia because they were too young to have an accurate result, as well. Great! So I just wasted a bunch of money on Vet stuff in GA. Live and learn. I hope learn...oy veh.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Sugar and Honey B. completely dwarfed by the chair.

Cinnamon's eye was definitely irritated. Was it due to a trauma or the beginning of the dreaded URI beginning to take hold? Whatever it is, she's being treated with antibiotic eye drops to see if we can get her feeling better.

We talked about diet and I'm going to add Nutri-cal to their food for awhile, along with my own idea of adding some plain chicken baby food into their grain free canned. They're also getting some KMR since they're still a bit on the young side. Basically, I give them whatever I've got.

You can say the same thing about the Vet bill...I gave them everything I've got, too. I have sooo got to find a Vet who will work with me and who I like and and and...but I first need to get my papers filed so I'm a proper Non-Profit! I've retained a great Lawyer and am looking forward getting this done, though let's not talk about money, because legal fees and filing fees make the Vet bill look quite tame.

Deep breath. It's going to be fine. It will work out. You won't lose your house and be forced to live in a cardboard box. You won't. Maybe a small shed? Like that guy on “Confessions of an Animal Hoarder?” I have to stop watching that show...more on that next...

Writing on 2 hours of sleep may not be the smartest thing I've ever done, but this story needs to break right NOW!!!

A few days ago I got an email from Diane, who runs a local rescue group alerting me to the fact that a 19 year old cat named, Chester had been lost in the woods by the local diner. The family hails from Maine and for reasons that are not clear to me, somehow Chester, who wore a collar and leash, got out of the car while the family was eating their meal. When they got back to the car, Chester was gone.

From Chester's "LOST" Flyer.

There's a lot of very dense brush around the diner and beyond that there are thick woods. I-84 passes one side of it.

It's been a common dumping ground for cats, garbage, beer cans and other debris. It's not where you'd want to take a walk alone late a night-not that it's "that" dangerous, but...the diner is open 24/7 so all sorts of folks stop by and many of them are just passing through the state.

We also have foxes and coyotes here-an occasional bear. There are lots of good reasons to find this geriatric cat as soon as possible. This morning, the temperatures were going to rise into the low 90's and today is slated to be very humid, too. Chester has been missing since June 28, 2010 and the run of cooler, drier weather is done.

We had our uber-trapper, Karlyn, working the case, along with Barb a really nice lady with another rescue group. We were all doing what we could to find Chester, along with another cat, Cowboy, who is also gone missing, too. His family is from VA and has been looking for him for over a week.

Karlyn set up a feeding station to see if she could tell if there were cats coming to it. Then she'd set humane traps to get the cats at the feeding station. We set up a wildlife camera but caught nothing the first day. We were going to buy another camera today, but something inside me was grinding. I kept feeling like I HAD to go look for Chester again. The last time I was ill prepared, stupidly wearing sandals which prevented me from looking too far into the woods.

I didn't sleep last night. Finally at 6:00 AM I got up, covered myself with bug repellant, put on heavy clothes to protect me from ticks. I put a feliway wipe in my pocket along with some dry food and a can of very wet food and some water. I know there's no scientific proof, but all that stuff didn't matter. I almost felt pushed to get out of the house as soon as I could. I could have left in my PJ's and slippers. I didn't care what I had on me. I just had to GO.

As I pulled up to the diner, the sun was getting stronger. It was barely 7AM. I started to think that all I should look for was a sign of the leash and the collar, so at least I would know if the cat had gotten out of it or if he was still attached to it and had maybe passed away. I tried to prepare myself to see a dead cat-the last thing I would ever want to see, but I had to be tough and just get out there.

There were some creepy cars in the back of the parking lot, so I opted to walk the perimeter and just look into the brush. I couldn't get over how dense the brush was so close to the edge of the parking lot. There's a path that leads to a dried out stream, off one of the corners of the lot. A big SUV/pickup thing was blocking it. I didn't want to go near it. It gave me the creeps.

Instead I found another place to enter the woods by one of the dumpsters. I walked down a short incline and walked along the dried river bed since it was just about the only place that was clear of thorny brush. I called to Chester, waited, listened. I could hear the traffic from the highway. A bird flew over my head. A branch fell onto the ground. I thought I heard something else...a cry?

I felt like I just had to walk in a particular direction. I saw a big tree, some of it had fallen down. Under one of the large limbs, I thought I saw a FACE. I was about 40 feet away? Was it the morning light playing a trick on my eyes? I called out to Chester. Nothing. I got closer. The thing wasn't moving. I thought that maybe it was a fox. We'd heard one a few nights ago when we were last there. I took a few steps closer, then I realized...it was CHESTER!!!!!!!!

I pushed through the brush, which was much more sparse, thankfully, and ran over to Chester. I could see his lead caught up in some debris. He wasn't moving. I thought he was gone. I started to talk to him as I broke apart the branches to free up his chain. He moved a tiny bit. I reached under the tree to pick him up. He was very limp, but alive.

As I ran back to the parking lot I kept talking to Chester, telling him it was going to be ok. He didn't move, which made it easier to get him to my car, but made me more worried that he was going to die in my arms.

Chester just moments after I got him into the back of the car.

It was only 7am, but I called Karlyn anyway. I breathlessly told her I found Chester!!! She said she would be right there. I opened some food and rubbed some water on his mouth. Chester was clearly well out of it, but for a moment he furiously lapped at a little bit of canned food.

Karlyn arrived. I emailed Super-Deb, hoping she would be into work early so I could get Chester over to her. SD called and said it would be 9am before anyone would see Chester. Too late. I needed to move him to a Vet-whoever was open. I didn't care. Karlyn helped me get Chester into my carrier and gave me a towel for him to lie on. I got the car going and drove as fast as I dared to the Animal Emergency Clinic in Danbury.

It was a long 15 minute drive, but they were expecting us, thanks to Karlyn's call. They took Chester and I waited. Then they told me his condition was "iffy" and that they could not get a pulse on his limbs but his heart sounded surprisingly good. His BUN was high, his potassium was good, but his sodium was high. Obviously, his kidneys are not in a good place. Chester was not 19. Turns out he is 21! That this cat was even breathing after almost 5 days of no food or water, is amazing.

I called Chester's family and gave them the good news wakeup call. They know where he is now and they know he won't die alone in the woods or by the claws of a predator. I gave him a hug and kiss and told him he was a good boy and that he would be ok. I hope I didn't lie to him, but it's out of my hands.

Chester. Out of the woods and safe, at last.

I hope Chester has a few lives left. I hope his family will be willing to pay for his care. It's going to be expensive if The Animal Emergency Clinic keeps him for the weekend. Right now I'm paying for it, but this isn't a time to fuss about money. It's a a time to pray or send good vibes or just think kindly about a very old kitty who lost his way and who was very lucky this crazy cat lady had his back.

Come'on Chester. You can do it! We're rooting for you!

I was thinking about my recent post: What will happen to my cats when I die? I was fortunate that I have one friend, Super-Deb, who will take 2 of the 8 cats. My other good friend, Jennifer, jumped in via e-mail and said "I've got your back." Our long time-CiCH friend and Super-Spencer-Fan, Shelli, said she would HAVE to give Spencer a home, no matter what.

Then it hit me. What if...

...we could put together a group of people who would be known, trusted cat lovers, who have great Vet references, who know how to deal with cat problems, behavior issues, health issues, who, for the return of the same kindness to the group-the group does the same for them. When one of us dies, we have a number of people already lined up who are willing and able to care for one or more of our cats.

Perhaps we could form bonds during our lives and know that certain cats are "spoken for", but there are always people that are considered the "fail safe or runner up" should “Miss America not be able to fulfill her duties...” so to speak.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson Patches has her whole life in front of her, but what would happen if her owner died suddenly?

Not only are we providing a vital service, but we're giving each other the support when we will need it most-when we can no longer care for our cats and when they are at high risk of being euthanized if they are taken to a shelter, instead of to a trusted friend.

So what happens if someone takes in another person's cat and that cat has lots of issues. What if it doesn't work out? Are we back to square one? Does that cat become homeless again? How do we protect everyone in this situation? I'm not sure. This is where I'm stuck.

What do you think? How could this work? I see it as possibly something that is begun with myself and my trusted friends who would have to be completely checked out-even background check. Then, to join, you would have to be invited, then have a serious check of your background, Vet check, home visit, etc. Once passed, you're in for life. We all would pay in a yearly fee and that money would be pooled into an account we draw from to cover costs when a cat/s has to be transported to a new home and perhaps any costs to get the cat UTD on shots/tests if needed.

We'd also need an attorney to help us craft the wording that we would all have to add to our Will. I would want every loose end tied up because families fight over everything once someone dies. If your lawyer or family KNOW there is a provision in your Will, then they can't do too much about that.

Perhaps this service already exists? Where is it? Where do I sign up?

When any of my cats are sick, I get stressed out. I don't feel better until I know THEY are feeling better. Imagine knowing your cat is not well for 1 year and 8 months (and counting). It's stressful for me. It's more stressful for my poor cat, Gracie.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Gracie (left) with daughter, Petunia (right)

Since February, I've been treating Gracie's miliary dermatitis homeopathically. It was starting to show signs of improving, but...in the middle of the treatment, I messed around with their food a bit and that might have caused Gracie's condition to worsen, so I went back to her very plain, raw diet.

Was the damage done? Was it too late? Gracie had a terrible self-mutilation on the inside of her right leg. I treated it and she seemed to be getting better, but today, after noticing her lose her appetite for a few days, I knew something was wrong. I thought her anal glands were impacted and I imagined it would make for a humorous blog post. Dr. Larry checked Gracie out today and her anal glands were fine, she had no fever, but had lost 7 ounces-which in a short period of time, is a lot of weight. Now I imagined writing something more sobering.

Then we looked at Gracie's abdomen. I don't think I should post a clear photo of it because it was "that bad." She had not only hurt the inside of her right leg (which I just checked a few days ago!), but she was starting on her left. On top of that Dr. Larry said she is getting an infection so there was no choice but to put her on antibiotics, which trashed the homeopathic treatments she was getting.

We discussed the “S-word”...STEROIDS and I was very close to just saying; “YES! DO IT.” I've read too many BAD things about steroids to take a chance with them even if I know it will help Gracie for the short term. The steroids would effect Gracie's skin and her immune system. To give her antibiotics and steroids together? I just couldn't open her up to even more problems down the road.

My poor sweetie.

Gracie's still with Dr. Larry. Super-Deb is giving her a soothing bath (no steroids!!) and they're going to shoot an x-ray to make sure Gracie isn't so full of fur that she's not eating as a result (or keeping her food down as of this morning)

I'm going to try two more things, then I may fall onto the steroid sword and give that to Gracie as a last resort.

1. We're going to try Allerderm® Spot-On to soothe Gracie's skin.

2. Treat Gracie's anxiety homeopathically, instead of trying to treat Gracie's skin condition. If Gracie stops this OCD-ish behavior and feels better, maybe her skin will improve?

I keep wanting to just give up, but I look at Gracie's sweet face. She's such a kind cat. Truly would never hurt anyone. She is depending on me and I can't and won't let her down. I just wish she knew that.