Category Archives: cats

Spot update

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Thank you all for your comments and suggestions and support. I posted and then went straight to bed, so please forgive me for not responding to any of you as I normally would – another day has now passed and it is best to just do an update post.

Spot spent another night about the same as the last one – he would sit where you out him but didn’t want to move around much on his own.

First thing this morning, I rang the vet. Background – our vet is run by brothers and they are in the office on alternate days. So the one who saw Spot on Saturday wasn’t the one I spoke to today, and if I’d gone in, it would have been the one who didn’t see him so recently. Sometimes I appreciate that I can have one veterinarian office with two opinions, but not this time.

I explained the situation, and he didn’t seem overly concerned. Basically I was told that I could bring him in if I felt like it, and that I could keep trying to tempt Spottie with treats. He didn’t seem to think the raw turkey was the catalyst.

Thinking over it again, Spot had the turkey at about 5pm and wanted more when I got up at 7:30am (and he only had the tiniest amount in the morning, not even a spoonful – he’s not used to treats in the morning). If he was going to have a problem from the turkey, shouldn’t it have hit overnight? When I have something that disagrees with me, I know it within six hours or less, and I’m dammed sure kitty metabolisms are faster. So. Maybe he ate something during the day on Monday when we weren’t home? Like plastic? A plant?

Whatever is wrong, I went to work with a heavy heart today. I hated to ‘wait and see’ another day, but I wanted to get the first vet again, and I wanted to warn my boss that I might be in late.

Do any of you feel nervous when asking for time off work to care for a sick pet? I know if I had kids no one would bat an eye. But it’s an animal. And worse, for Irish people – it’s “just a cat.” Don’t forget, they are still classed as vermin here – the same as mice or rats or badgers or mink or foxes…

But I did give warning, and that made me feel better. Because my boss said “poor cat”, and didn’t make a horrible joke or sneer at me. Whew. I know now that if I’m not happy how tonight and tomorrow go, I have a free pass with no further stress.

Now – Spot came downstairs on his own when I got home, and while he didn’t respond to my greeting, he did head right for the litterbox and had a pee. Since he leaves his tail outside the box when he goes (it’s the type with a hood and door), I could see from his habitual tail-pumping that it was a normal length pee, and didn’t cause him any pain. So he must be drinking, even if I’ve not seen him do so. He refused my attempts to give him his favourite chicken this morning, and again when I got home. He also refused some raw chicken, even though I put it in front of both him and Lokii in the hopes that his competitive spirit would overcome his lack of interest. Nope.

But! He is downstairs, and jumped up on iDJ’s lap earlier all on his own. He showed interest in playing with a bit of string, and he has responded vocally when when we say hello to him – he sounds a bit hoarse, however. He rubbed against the brush when offered (until Lokes saw it and butted in), and is rising to meet a hand that is petting him instead of just accepting it. He’s been up and down the stairs a few times, and is now cuddled with his brother in front of the fire. I’ll be in there with them soon, as it’s gotten pretty cold out here.

I’m reposting one of my favourite pictures of him.

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I think I made Spot worse

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Hiya. I’m still in a bad headspace because of Spottie’s disease which has evidenced itself in a really bad way; I did something really stupid on Sunday. I rather thought that talking about him on the blog would make it better – isn’t that what everyone says? I know I keep the serious shit to myself. The things that “get” to me simmer below the surface: I don’t even realise that I’ve gone a bit insane. I don’t even realise I’ve changed. I don’t realise that I’m not 100% – not that I ever really am at 100%. Who is?

I screwed up with Spot, it seems. We had a turkey on Sunday, and it of course came with all the ooky bits like gizzards and skin and liver and heart. Yuck – but great for feeding raw to your animals. Now, I know not to give too much of the liver at one time, that’s some strong stuff. I cut little chunks off of everything and both cats were gobbling it up (excuse the pun). I was happy, as they didn’t want any ooky bits of our last turkey – probably last November. I thought, ‘fantastic, all that natural moisture will be great for Spot!’ So, I let him have a bit more than I normally would have. He wanted more!

Apparently not so much. He didn’t want his wet food last evening. Lokii didn’t eat it either. Now, I amn’t sure exactly why Lokes didn’t. Either it smelled funny, or he knew his brother wasn’t feeling good and preferred to take care of him over having a tasty snack.

Lokii has been stuck like glue to Spot’s side. Spot has just been sitting, in the loaf-of-bread-pose, most of the time since last evening. He doesn’t want loving. He will cuddle if placed on a lap or under the bedcovers with a person. He doesn’t want food. I haven’t seen him drink, but have seen him pee. He barfed a few times, nothing but clear liquid. Hubby slept in the spare room, because Spot was curled up dead centre under his pillow and he didn’t want to disturb him. I didn’t sleep much last night, waking up to see how Spot was doing, and missing the human body in my bed, too.

He’s better tonight, but despite showing excitement over his favourite treat, he didn’t eat any. Currently he’s curled up in the crook of my knee, in front of the fire, with Lokii being the bread-loaf next to him, keeping watch.

I’m not too surprised that Lokii is such a good caregiver. I know Spot would probably prefer to feel terrible all by himself – that’s what cats do. Lokes refuses to leave his side, however. He always has refused to take no for an answer from his big brother.

I really want to post some fun pictures that I took before all this shit came down, but it seems I’m still not ready – this post started off as a general update on Spot, to segue into fun pics. But I’m not ready. So here’s a great pic of the boys trying to share our bar-stool chair, taken on Friday.

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Spot has kidney disease.

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The other reason I’m not all full of happiness and sunshine is that my good old man, Spot, has an elevated creatinine level. Now, it’s not terribly high. He’s just barely into the danger zone.

It seems from everything I’ve read, that the danger zone means his kidneys are already failing. You cannot bring back the broken parts, they are gone forever.

Our vet doesn’t want to give him medication – but he seemed a bit unsure about that, and might change his mind. He did say to do our best to raise the amount of fluids Spot takes in. So far, I’ve had resounding success in just adding some of his special (expensive!) Prescription Diet C/D dry kibble to water. He drank for two solid minutes, and ate the waterlogged kibble, too.

We have C/D “wet food” on order – it is prescription after all – but in the meantime I am going to add extra water glasses, bowls, whatever all around the house so he can have a lap or three whenever he is surprised by water being right there. I already knew that cats love surprise water – this is why I have to have a lid on my bedside water glass! I didn’t like drinking fur and the occasional bit of litter that was stuck between his toes (he always sticks his arm all the way into a glass of water first, the nutter).

We will go back in three months for another blood test, to see if the extra hydration helps. The vet himself might be a bit more worried about that than we are, as Spot bit the hell out of him! This was after a mild sedative… Doc said they nearly put him all the way under as he was fine and happy…until he wasn’t. I get the feeling that next time, he will be more cautious around Spottie than he is around our big dog!

I did find it odd that when he said Spot bit him, my response was, ‘Oh shit! I’m so sorry!’ and he laughed – do people not apologise for such things? I raised him better than that…. I do wonder if he’d have been easier to deal with if I were there with him. Doc wanted to do it alone, as he is such a wiggly cat, but I think he’d have been happier with one of his people there.

He is 11 and a half, I don’t want to think that’s old but I suppose it is. He is always so happy and playful! Just this morning he was leaping around like a kitten and attacking imaginary foes. He loves to be loved on, and follows me around every morning when I make my coffee – standing on his hind legs and holding on to my thigh for dear life, while chatting away at me and expecting the head scratches to continue.

I love this cat so much, and I know he won’t last forever. I will do my best to make sure he gets as long as possible to have all those morning head scratches.

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Awwwwww

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It’s a pixelated, dark, speckled photo – but until I get hubby to upload the flash pics I took on our ‘real camera’, this terrible iPhone picture of cuteness will have to do.

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Spot curled up with Neko – he managed to squeeze in where he got full benefit of that floofy tail.

Lokii and Neko

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I started following a Facebook group, Bengal Cat World – mostly because Cats n Co follows them, I have a Bengal, and the main Bengal spokes-cat on their page is also named Spot. How could I resist?

Whomever is in charge is a lovely person, very willing to personally welcome new followers and have a chat. She/he also posts enough photos daily to overflow a litterbox. This is going to seriously annoy my other FB friends as I can’t help but ‘like’ all the Bengal photos from around the globe.

They have ‘unbaby me‘ app; I wonder if there is an ‘unkitty me’ to save my friends’ sanity? Sled – Unbaby was meant for you! Hubby uses it, and has all the baby pics on his FB feed (except for close family/friends) replaced with pics of cats. How awesome is that, you can like their photo and make them happy, never letting them know it was really a cute kitty you liked…

Who am I kidding, there will never be an unkitty app! We all know the Internet is made up of mostly porn and cats, who would ever want to block teh kittahs?

Anyhoo: in my long, rambling, old manner of doing a blog post (before I got sucked into posting sooo many flower pics), I saw a pic today from the group of a Bengal cuddling up to what is probably a miniature pincher puppy. Yes, it’s entirely squee-worthy, if you are the type of person inclined to squee (I won’t be so rude as to steal the pic and repost it here. Go find Bengal Cat World if you really need to see it).

Being a mostly squee-free-zone, I immediately thought that maybe a small dog would help Lokii overcome his fear of Neko.

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Not that I want a small dog in my family… sorry, small-dog-fans, but I seem to only want to love and live with big, sheddy, intimidating-looking dogs who don’t drool. Dogs that are smart enough to listen and obey, but not smart enough (or dumb enough, it’s a fine line) to get bored and eat the leg off a table for their own entertainment.

Neko suits my needs perfectly – she’s a bit small for me at 36 kilos (about 80lbs), and she sheds a lot, scares people (unless they want to hug her, in which case she freaks out and really scares them) doesn’t drool, and is happiest inside – sleeping or following us around – and rarely getting into trouble.

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But Little Lokii doesn’t like her. Lokes never learned dog body language, as our previous big hairy boy died only a few weeks after Lokii became part of the family. They were just starting to get along, too. But my heart was so very broken that I couldn’t get another dog for a few years, which was too long of a wait for teaching a kitty how to speak dog.

The pair does interact, occasionally. When Lokii gets full of beans (and I’m there in the room to run behind if things get too scary) he will sit under the living room table and reach out and “tag” Neko’s ankles as she walks past. Or if Lokii is up high and feeling confident, he’ll tag her in the butt, or tail.

Of course the moment Neeks decides that it is playtime, Lokii freaks out, hisses and runs away. Sigh.

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Scardey-cat.

Basically, he’s a little bully. So maybe a few weeks with a dog smaller than he is would give him the confidence to deal with Neko in a more… adult manner.

By which I mean that I really wish he would play with his damn dog, she wants to so bad!

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We can’t deal with that sad face forever.

The Secret Life of Cats

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My friend over at Cats N Co did a post today about a show we watched when it was broadcast: The Secret Life of Cats, on the BBC (Dianda gave a link to the youtube vid, please visit her via the link if you would like to see it).

While we keep our boys indoors, we understand this is a rarity in England and Ireland. The programme was mostly focused on what cats do when out of doors and no human is watching. Indoor cat movement tracking and neck-cams would really be boring, in any case.

I did find it fascinating. So did my boys.

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I can clearly see the personality difference in them – Lokii is interested, but Spot looks like he’s about to jump off the couch and beat up the kitties on the telly.

Face off

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How entirely sad. Cat not allowed out, dog annoying the shite out of us by acting like a cat (in, out, in, out – make up your mind!). Still love this because they are definitely blaming each other for their misery…. Or are they?

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Peekaboo outtakes.

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I had a few more shots from the other day, that didn’t fit in with the eye theme. But I like them anyway.

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Lokii’s snake-like teeth and curly yawning tongue, while blurry, make me smile.

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I’m sure there’s a term for getting the perspective all wrong. Help me out if you know it. I did it here, with the phone below his nose looking up: his schnozzola looks gigantic and he looks cross-eyed as well. It doesn’t look like Lokes any more, but it’s cute.

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So I did the same thing to Spot. He just looks like he’s smiling.

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I wish I could meditate like that. Hey, Dianda – if you want the last pic for your Monday caption contest, I couldn’t come up with anything clever myself!

Peekaboo.

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Spot was begging me to turn on the bathroom tap yesterday, so he could have a drink. From my seat (ahem) I told him that I didn’t intend to be in the room that long, so I wasn’t going to oblige him. Being as he doesn’t understand English, he just stared at me. As he tried to convince me using all of his feline wiles – more staring – I noticed his eyes were a most unusual colour.

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It’s pretty hard to take photos of a cat who is only interested in a drink, so we left the bathroom and I grabbed my iPhone and chased him around the house until he settled by the back door. His eyes were still that odd marbled shade, like agate.

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Usually they are mostly yellow, with brown hints. I’d never seen them change. Maybe I haven’t been paying attention.

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Of course, I can’t pay attention to Spottie-pants without Lokii-trousers showing up and demanding some face time.

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His eyes never change colour, but they are still the most glorious shade of blue.

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But he does a damn creepy impression of a ‘white walker’ from Game of Thrones!

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Lob it over me, boss

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Okay, I want to do a real post, but I can’t really concentrate at the moment to line up pics and talk about them. But I feel like I haven’t posted in days – and I haven’t – so I have to do something anything.

It so happens I do have ‘something, anything’, and it’s friggin’ adorable.

Yep, it’s the boys being cute again!

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I should probably explain all the mess. Photo location- inches away from the sliding glass door (to the right, in the photos). The boys are in the dog’s bed: it gets sunny and warm there occasionally.

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That corner is also where their ‘thrones’ are – also known as litter boxes, but these are massive with pillows on top for them to sleep on, and catch the sun at the right time of day. So, there’s a bit of litter scattered in the dog bed. Meh. Cats are clean, just not neat.

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The blue thingie behind Lokii is the little cardboard zip-strip from a new box of aluminium foil. Spot loves them, so I gave it to him as a toy and hasn’t quite yet (or yet-yet, it’s still there) thrown it away when he got bored.

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But who cares about some random mess when you have a Siamese using a Bengal as a chin-rest?