Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Shack Goes Out
Shackleton, a small, neutered male cat, is an orange tabby with white highlights. His feet, muzzle, and tummy are white while his eyes are yellow-gold. He has lived with me since he was ten days old.
With spring, his goal is to be outside. He loves to bolt out the door whenever I open it whether I want him out or not. Most of the time I block his nefarious exit, but not every time.
I do not want him outside because he does not see well. He had vision problems when he came to live with us. His vision has improved, but he does not have the visual acuity of a normal cat. This is especially noticeable when he ventures across the street. He simply does not see the traffic. I have had more than one heart stopping moment. Nevertheless, I know that he will get out. I just want to control when.
Last week, he and I had a particularly difficult day. I was busy and did not want to worry about the adventuring of my little orange cat. I blocked Shackleton's exit each time. He was obviously annoyed and took his annoyance out on his house mates. Finally, I told him that once I finished my current project I would go out with him. He seemed to understand and settled down for a nap.
I finished my work and began another task. I had forgotten my promise. There was a tap on my leg. I looked down. There was Shack. He tapped my leg again with his front paw, then walked to the front door. I remembered my promise, just as he had. We went outside together.
I had never had a cat ask for attention like that. Shack is unique.
Labels: orange tabby, outside, promise, Shackleton, tap
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Sugar Ain't So Sweet
My aunt's cat came to live with me when it became obvious she was pregnant again. Sugar is a faded tortoiseshell who was extremely wary of people. After the kittens were born and weaned, she immediately went into season. During this time, she was very affectionate, coming to me for attention.
Sugar had appeared on my aunt's farm less than a year ago. I assumed she was a young cat. I could not tell for sure because Sugar would not let me pick her up. I made an appointment for her to be spayed. When I took her in, I told the receptionist what little I knew of her history. I was assured that they would do a complete exam and give me an estimate of her age.
When I picked her up late that day, I was in for a surprise. Sugar was not a young cat. My vet estimated that she was at least eight years old. That changed my plan for her. Originally, I had planned to return her to the farm, even though, my aunt had moved into the city. A neighbor of my aunt's had agreed to feed and water Sugar as well as the other farm cats. Now, I knew she was not so young. I decided to let her stay with me as an indoor cat. I would try to find a home, but I knew a cat her age would probably stay with me.
Sugar's affectionate nature vanished with her spaying. She has become the terror of her part of the house. She wants nothing to do with me unless I have food. She barely tolerates my touch. She swats any of her offspring that draw close to her and attacks the other two, older females that share her quarters. Teegar, a large, black, male cat had the audacity to try to enter her part of the house. Sugar drove him back with an all out attack that sent all the cats into hiding. Sugar is no longer sweet.
Sugar had appeared on my aunt's farm less than a year ago. I assumed she was a young cat. I could not tell for sure because Sugar would not let me pick her up. I made an appointment for her to be spayed. When I took her in, I told the receptionist what little I knew of her history. I was assured that they would do a complete exam and give me an estimate of her age.When I picked her up late that day, I was in for a surprise. Sugar was not a young cat. My vet estimated that she was at least eight years old. That changed my plan for her. Originally, I had planned to return her to the farm, even though, my aunt had moved into the city. A neighbor of my aunt's had agreed to feed and water Sugar as well as the other farm cats. Now, I knew she was not so young. I decided to let her stay with me as an indoor cat. I would try to find a home, but I knew a cat her age would probably stay with me.
Sugar's affectionate nature vanished with her spaying. She has become the terror of her part of the house. She wants nothing to do with me unless I have food. She barely tolerates my touch. She swats any of her offspring that draw close to her and attacks the other two, older females that share her quarters. Teegar, a large, black, male cat had the audacity to try to enter her part of the house. Sugar drove him back with an all out attack that sent all the cats into hiding. Sugar is no longer sweet.
Labels: cat, farm cat, Sugar, sweet, Tortoiseshell
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Dos Tries to Walk on Water
Dos was a large, orange tabby that came to us as an adult cat. He would sit on the steps leading to the swimming pool so that only his head was above the level of the pool deck and watch us swim. I would talk to him whenever I noticed him. In time, he came around when no one was in the pool. Finally, he accepted our friendship.
Checking around the neighborhood, I learned that he was the offspring of a feral female and had no home. We adopted him and made him part of the family which meant neutering and all shots. He adjusted to everything but being in at night. Until he was much older, he did not willingly come in at night.
One late afternoon in the fall, I began my cat round-up. The wind had been blowing hard all day and for some reason the pool pump was off, so the pool surface was completely covered in oak and elm leaves. If you did not know that the pool was full of water, you would think that this was just a leaf strewn lawn.
The cats came in, all but Dos. I went looking for him. He was sitting on the pool deck. As I approached, he sauntered away. He could easily leave the yard by jumping off the deck onto the drive way if he continued on the same path, but he stopped. He seemed to be studying the pool which was fourteen feet wide and twenty-eight feet long. Did he think that we had filled it in and covered it with leaves?
I don't know. Maybe Dos thought he could leap fourteen feet. He looked over his shoulder at me. I had long since stopped, no longer pursuing him. He looked back at the pool, then started down the deck at trot. As he hit top speed, he turned and launched himself across the pool. For a moment, I thought he would make it. He missed by a little over a foot.
There was a tremendous splash, and Dos completely disappeared under water. Then he bobbed to the surface, paddling. I called to him from the steps out of the pool. He ignored me and swam to the nearest side. He made a lunge and got the upper part of his body out of the pool, then pulled the rest of his body out. He shook himself. I called but he headed toward the front of the house.
I hurried back into the house, through the kitchen, dining room, and living room to open the front door. Sure enough, a very wet, orange cat came in the front door. I scooped him up and headed to the bathroom. Soon, I had him toweled dry and content to settle down for the night.
As far as I know, Dos is the only one of my cats that ever tried to leap across the pool. Maybe he was just trying to walk on water.
Checking around the neighborhood, I learned that he was the offspring of a feral female and had no home. We adopted him and made him part of the family which meant neutering and all shots. He adjusted to everything but being in at night. Until he was much older, he did not willingly come in at night.
One late afternoon in the fall, I began my cat round-up. The wind had been blowing hard all day and for some reason the pool pump was off, so the pool surface was completely covered in oak and elm leaves. If you did not know that the pool was full of water, you would think that this was just a leaf strewn lawn.
The cats came in, all but Dos. I went looking for him. He was sitting on the pool deck. As I approached, he sauntered away. He could easily leave the yard by jumping off the deck onto the drive way if he continued on the same path, but he stopped. He seemed to be studying the pool which was fourteen feet wide and twenty-eight feet long. Did he think that we had filled it in and covered it with leaves?
I don't know. Maybe Dos thought he could leap fourteen feet. He looked over his shoulder at me. I had long since stopped, no longer pursuing him. He looked back at the pool, then started down the deck at trot. As he hit top speed, he turned and launched himself across the pool. For a moment, I thought he would make it. He missed by a little over a foot.
There was a tremendous splash, and Dos completely disappeared under water. Then he bobbed to the surface, paddling. I called to him from the steps out of the pool. He ignored me and swam to the nearest side. He made a lunge and got the upper part of his body out of the pool, then pulled the rest of his body out. He shook himself. I called but he headed toward the front of the house.
I hurried back into the house, through the kitchen, dining room, and living room to open the front door. Sure enough, a very wet, orange cat came in the front door. I scooped him up and headed to the bathroom. Soon, I had him toweled dry and content to settle down for the night.
As far as I know, Dos is the only one of my cats that ever tried to leap across the pool. Maybe he was just trying to walk on water.
Labels: Dos, leaves, orange tabby, swimming, swimming pool, water
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Lady Barbara Comes Home
Lady Barbara, a tortoiseshell female cat, came home after major surgery. She had had a puncture wound into her colon that leaked fecal matter. I had to take her to Texas A&M for the surgery. I was given strict instructions for her diet. No dry food. Every serving of canned food had to have a teaspoon of Metamucil mixed into it. I knew the only way this diet could succeed was to keep Lady Barbara in a separate room. Lady B as she came to be called was put into the solarium and fed twice a day per instructions.
This feeding schedule lasted for six weeks with Lady B growing less and less happy about mealtime. She made biweekly visits to the vet to have her incision checked as well as her general
health. She always passed with flying colors. Lady B never protested being poked and prodded. She had a u-shaped scar now on her rear, open-side down. She looked like she had been kicked by a very small horse. Except for the scar, she seemed in excellent health. She was released from the solarium.
Lady Barbara lived fourteen more years. She died suddenly of internal bleeding. My vet believed that there had been other injuries at the time of her accident that finally caught up with her. In all those years, Lady Barbara was an indoor-only cat in the same house. In all those years, she never entered the solarium again. I guess she thought if she did she would have to eat that Metamucil-laced food again.
To learn about Lady Barbara's arrival, click here.
This feeding schedule lasted for six weeks with Lady B growing less and less happy about mealtime. She made biweekly visits to the vet to have her incision checked as well as her general
health. She always passed with flying colors. Lady B never protested being poked and prodded. She had a u-shaped scar now on her rear, open-side down. She looked like she had been kicked by a very small horse. Except for the scar, she seemed in excellent health. She was released from the solarium.Lady Barbara lived fourteen more years. She died suddenly of internal bleeding. My vet believed that there had been other injuries at the time of her accident that finally caught up with her. In all those years, Lady Barbara was an indoor-only cat in the same house. In all those years, she never entered the solarium again. I guess she thought if she did she would have to eat that Metamucil-laced food again.
To learn about Lady Barbara's arrival, click here.
Labels: cat, colon, Lady Barbara, Metamucil, puncture wound, TAMU, torotiseshell
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Lady Barbara at Texas A & M
My mother and I sat in the waiting room at Texas A&M University animal clinic with Lady Barbara in a carrier. We were here to see if this little tortoiseshell cat could be saved. Lady Barbara had a puncture wound into her colon. (To learn how this started, click here.)
At last, a young woman called my name. We were escorted to an examining room where the young woman removed Lady Barbara from the carrier. Lady Barbara promptly jumped onto the nearby sink area. I started to retrieve her, but the young woman told me to let her explore the room, then left. Lady Barbara did explore. She went everywhere but the examining table. We waited.
The door opened; an older man entered and introduced himself. He was the professor my veterinarian had contacted. Behind him came another professor, two postdoctoral students and the young woman, a graduate student. We had a crowd. Lady Barbara, back on the sink counter watched all with interest.
The first professor retrieved her from the counter and placed her on the examining table. For the first time, Lady Barbara did not look happy. Everyone gathered around her as the professor began his exam. He cleaned around her wound (she still leaked fecal matter), then began a careful study of her rear. The others did likewise. Lady Barbara did not seem to find it strange that so many people were interested in her rear end.
The first professor turned to me. "I think that we can help her," he said.
Until that moment, I did not know how worried I was about a cat I had had only a few weeks. I could sense the relaxation flow through my body.
He continued, explaining that this was an unusual injury, one that they had never seen in a cat, and only a few times in dogs. They were overjoyed to be able to work on her. The professor explained that they would not try to repair the tear, but instead, remove the damaged section of colon and reconnect it to her rectum. They would have to make a large, u-shaped incision around her rectum. When finished, Lady Barbara's rear would have been lifted closer to her tail. The only question would be whether any muscles had been damaged. He did not think so. Lady Barbara would have to stay at least a week.
We went home (after paying for the surgery) and waited. Lady Barbara's surgery was the next day. The professor had promised that someone would call every evening.
When the phone rang the next evening, it was the young woman graduate student. Lady Barbara had come through the surgery with flying colors and was recovering nicely. The graduate student promised to call the next day.
She did. Lady Barbara was doing well, although not eating robustly. They were waiting to see what happened when she defecated.
I was surprised by her lack of appetite because despite her injury, Lady Barbara had liked to eat. Now, I had something to worry about.
The news was great the next day. Lady Barbara had defecated normally. Everything was working properly. Her appetite was still not what it should be, but all her vital signs were normal.
I asked what they were feeding her. Canned Friskies, her favorite variety. Then the graduate student said, "Oh, we put a teaspoon of Metamucil in every serving."
I understood. I would not like to eat any meal with that stuff mixed in. Poor Lady Barbara.
Despite her distaste for the food, Lady Barbara did well. One week later, I was able to return to Texas A&M and retrieve her. Lady Barbara came home.
At last, a young woman called my name. We were escorted to an examining room where the young woman removed Lady Barbara from the carrier. Lady Barbara promptly jumped onto the nearby sink area. I started to retrieve her, but the young woman told me to let her explore the room, then left. Lady Barbara did explore. She went everywhere but the examining table. We waited.
The door opened; an older man entered and introduced himself. He was the professor my veterinarian had contacted. Behind him came another professor, two postdoctoral students and the young woman, a graduate student. We had a crowd. Lady Barbara, back on the sink counter watched all with interest.
The first professor retrieved her from the counter and placed her on the examining table. For the first time, Lady Barbara did not look happy. Everyone gathered around her as the professor began his exam. He cleaned around her wound (she still leaked fecal matter), then began a careful study of her rear. The others did likewise. Lady Barbara did not seem to find it strange that so many people were interested in her rear end.
The first professor turned to me. "I think that we can help her," he said.
Until that moment, I did not know how worried I was about a cat I had had only a few weeks. I could sense the relaxation flow through my body.
He continued, explaining that this was an unusual injury, one that they had never seen in a cat, and only a few times in dogs. They were overjoyed to be able to work on her. The professor explained that they would not try to repair the tear, but instead, remove the damaged section of colon and reconnect it to her rectum. They would have to make a large, u-shaped incision around her rectum. When finished, Lady Barbara's rear would have been lifted closer to her tail. The only question would be whether any muscles had been damaged. He did not think so. Lady Barbara would have to stay at least a week.
We went home (after paying for the surgery) and waited. Lady Barbara's surgery was the next day. The professor had promised that someone would call every evening.
When the phone rang the next evening, it was the young woman graduate student. Lady Barbara had come through the surgery with flying colors and was recovering nicely. The graduate student promised to call the next day.
She did. Lady Barbara was doing well, although not eating robustly. They were waiting to see what happened when she defecated.
I was surprised by her lack of appetite because despite her injury, Lady Barbara had liked to eat. Now, I had something to worry about.
The news was great the next day. Lady Barbara had defecated normally. Everything was working properly. Her appetite was still not what it should be, but all her vital signs were normal.
I asked what they were feeding her. Canned Friskies, her favorite variety. Then the graduate student said, "Oh, we put a teaspoon of Metamucil in every serving."
I understood. I would not like to eat any meal with that stuff mixed in. Poor Lady Barbara.
Despite her distaste for the food, Lady Barbara did well. One week later, I was able to return to Texas A&M and retrieve her. Lady Barbara came home.
Photos of Texas A&M campus by StuSeeger.
Labels: cat, injury, Lady Barbara, Metamucil, Texas A and M, Tortoiseshell
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Lady Barbara Arrives
One early spring day, a pretty tortoiseshell cat appeared on our front porch hungrily munching on my cats' dry cat food. I went out to examine the new arrival because I was always aware a new arrival could spread disease among my crew. The friendly cat came to me. With shock, I noticed (smelled first) that she had fecal matter smeared around her rear. I picked Stinky up and looked closer: the cat had a wound near her rectum that was leaking fecal matter. Despite this horrific injury, the cat kept her poise and purred. I named her Lady Barbara after the wife of Captain Horatio Hornblower. (We already had Horatio.)
As soon as I finished examining her, we headed to my vet. He determined that she had received a puncture wound into her colon. He had seen such injuries in dogs, but never cats. He immediately scheduled her for surgery. Meanwhile, I looked for her owner.
The surgery did not go well. My veterinarian was unable to seal the hole. Lady Barbara, however, was otherwise fine. I, however, had no luck finding her owner.
Afer consultation with my vet, he made an appointment at the small animal clinic that was part of Texas A&M University's Veterinary College. Lady Barbara came home until the time for her appointment. She stayed in one of my big cages because of her condition. She remained a sweet cat that loved attention as much as food.
The day of her appointment we left early because it was a long drive. Lady Barbara slept peacefully inside the largest carrier I owned. The carrier was in the back seat. We stopped for a hurried lunch, then on to A&M.
At the clinic, we checked in and waited. My vet had been encouraging, but I knew there was a chance that Lady Barbara was not fixable. Even if the wound sealed, the muscles that controlled her rectum might not work. What would we do if Lady Barbara could not be healed?
As soon as I finished examining her, we headed to my vet. He determined that she had received a puncture wound into her colon. He had seen such injuries in dogs, but never cats. He immediately scheduled her for surgery. Meanwhile, I looked for her owner.
The surgery did not go well. My veterinarian was unable to seal the hole. Lady Barbara, however, was otherwise fine. I, however, had no luck finding her owner.
Afer consultation with my vet, he made an appointment at the small animal clinic that was part of Texas A&M University's Veterinary College. Lady Barbara came home until the time for her appointment. She stayed in one of my big cages because of her condition. She remained a sweet cat that loved attention as much as food.
The day of her appointment we left early because it was a long drive. Lady Barbara slept peacefully inside the largest carrier I owned. The carrier was in the back seat. We stopped for a hurried lunch, then on to A&M.
At the clinic, we checked in and waited. My vet had been encouraging, but I knew there was a chance that Lady Barbara was not fixable. Even if the wound sealed, the muscles that controlled her rectum might not work. What would we do if Lady Barbara could not be healed?
To learn what happened next, click here.
Labels: colon, Lady Barbara, puncture wound, Tortoiseshell
