GoingNorth
Crazy Cat Lady
Well, we've been on the "vet go round" for a bit. No, Thomas isn't deathly ill or even in need of vibes, really.
He's just an intestinal mess. He's been worked up for parasites of all sorts and doesn't have any. What we did find out, after a (expensive) analysis and cultures by a lab in Memphis, is that he's got a toxic stew of bad bacteria growing in his innards.
This is the cause of his chronic diarrhea and gas. Meanwhile, he's up to over 18lbs, his coat is coming in magnificently, and he is the picture of health if you don't mind a bit of "middle-aged spread" (he's got a gut)
Now, Thomas does NOT like the vet. Thomas has developed a coping mechanism for things he doesn't like. He goes totally limp. Doesn't hiss or growl or fuss or fight.
Just turns into a 18lb puddle of orange fur and lays there. This made his vet's attempts to examine him rather difficult. Listening to his chest involved flopping him from one side to the other, and then me and the tech holding him upright while he just hung there with his legs and head dangling.
My vet got done with the exam and returned the large puddle of orange fur to the prone position on the table, shook her head, and said, "That adds a whole new meaning to the term CAT-atonic!"
Anyway, he's on Flagyl to kill the bad bugs, and on probiotics to repopulate his innards with good bugs.
He's also allergic to chicken and turkey. I have found ONE brand of premium cat food that doesn't contain at least chicken fat. We did an elimation diet and found that eliminating chicken and turkey, helped with the diarrhea to a degree and got rid of the gas, which was horrid, especially as Thomas spends a great deal of his time plastered to me.
He is now settled in enough to be naughty. The other night I heard sounds of destruction coming from the bathroom and hustled in there to find out what on earth Squeaky had gotten herself into THIS time.
Except, it wasn't just Squeaky. Thomas was on the floor wrapped up in most of a roll of toilet paper, while Squeaky was in the open cabinet kicking q-tips all over him. While I watched (with my mouth hanging open) Thomas kicked at the TP and tried to catch the q-tips with his mouth and paws, shredding the TP.
Somehow, I'm not quite sure how, a bag of cotton balls wound up joining the fray. About this time, Thomas escaped the toilet paper and took off, trailing streamers of TP and with his coat generously sprinkled with q-tips and cotton balls.
Squeaky was hot on his heels, with quite a few cotton balls and q-tips decorating her tabby coat.
They both wound up in the living room window, their path liberally marked by TP shreds, cotton balls, and q-tips.
This was about 3AM. I had to clean up the mess as both cats, especially Thomas, tend to eat inanimate objects.
The TP and cotton balls were a total loss (too hairy once I picked them off the floor and cats), but I managed to salvage some of the q-tips.
I suspect whomever buys this place will be finding q-tips and cotton balls for years after signing the deed.
So, don't believe it when people tell you that senior cats are boring. (Thomas will be 12 on April 19th. I don't know when Squeaky was born, but we celebrate her "gotcha day" on September 19th and estimate her age on that date as 8 years old.)
Frankly, after that stunt, I could use a little boring.
Now, If I could just figure out which of the hairy fiends bit holes in each of the 5 bananas remaining in the bunch I bought yesterday.
He's just an intestinal mess. He's been worked up for parasites of all sorts and doesn't have any. What we did find out, after a (expensive) analysis and cultures by a lab in Memphis, is that he's got a toxic stew of bad bacteria growing in his innards.
This is the cause of his chronic diarrhea and gas. Meanwhile, he's up to over 18lbs, his coat is coming in magnificently, and he is the picture of health if you don't mind a bit of "middle-aged spread" (he's got a gut)
Now, Thomas does NOT like the vet. Thomas has developed a coping mechanism for things he doesn't like. He goes totally limp. Doesn't hiss or growl or fuss or fight.
Just turns into a 18lb puddle of orange fur and lays there. This made his vet's attempts to examine him rather difficult. Listening to his chest involved flopping him from one side to the other, and then me and the tech holding him upright while he just hung there with his legs and head dangling.
My vet got done with the exam and returned the large puddle of orange fur to the prone position on the table, shook her head, and said, "That adds a whole new meaning to the term CAT-atonic!"
Anyway, he's on Flagyl to kill the bad bugs, and on probiotics to repopulate his innards with good bugs.
He's also allergic to chicken and turkey. I have found ONE brand of premium cat food that doesn't contain at least chicken fat. We did an elimation diet and found that eliminating chicken and turkey, helped with the diarrhea to a degree and got rid of the gas, which was horrid, especially as Thomas spends a great deal of his time plastered to me.
He is now settled in enough to be naughty. The other night I heard sounds of destruction coming from the bathroom and hustled in there to find out what on earth Squeaky had gotten herself into THIS time.
Except, it wasn't just Squeaky. Thomas was on the floor wrapped up in most of a roll of toilet paper, while Squeaky was in the open cabinet kicking q-tips all over him. While I watched (with my mouth hanging open) Thomas kicked at the TP and tried to catch the q-tips with his mouth and paws, shredding the TP.
Somehow, I'm not quite sure how, a bag of cotton balls wound up joining the fray. About this time, Thomas escaped the toilet paper and took off, trailing streamers of TP and with his coat generously sprinkled with q-tips and cotton balls.
Squeaky was hot on his heels, with quite a few cotton balls and q-tips decorating her tabby coat.
They both wound up in the living room window, their path liberally marked by TP shreds, cotton balls, and q-tips.
This was about 3AM. I had to clean up the mess as both cats, especially Thomas, tend to eat inanimate objects.
The TP and cotton balls were a total loss (too hairy once I picked them off the floor and cats), but I managed to salvage some of the q-tips.
I suspect whomever buys this place will be finding q-tips and cotton balls for years after signing the deed.
So, don't believe it when people tell you that senior cats are boring. (Thomas will be 12 on April 19th. I don't know when Squeaky was born, but we celebrate her "gotcha day" on September 19th and estimate her age on that date as 8 years old.)
Frankly, after that stunt, I could use a little boring.
Now, If I could just figure out which of the hairy fiends bit holes in each of the 5 bananas remaining in the bunch I bought yesterday.
