We had a few bumps in the road today on the road to Well-ville for Scarlett, although it looks like things will be ok. I’m very sensitive to not overdoing it with the cat talk here. With home office half the week meaning I spend even less time around the two-leggeds, I get a little paranoid that I could turn into a crazy cat lady. I certainly talk to them more often now that I’m home so much, but you know…we’ve grown so close, I feel they really understand me.
You know what I mean? Fergus? Are you reading? Toss me a comment now and then!
But seriously, aside from my occasional concern about my sanity, the cats are benefiting by my presence. I’ve never been so hyper-aware of two animals’ eating, pooping and peeing habits. This started when Fergus began to have those boy cat problems with urinating. Until I had him I didn’t have any idea how high maintenance boy cats were. I thought they’d be tough and virile. Instead they’re delicate flowers that can get an infection more often than the weather changes with potentially tragic results.
In the past six months, I have become a ‘known’ person at the local vet. I’m always watching him for signs of urinary trouble. A close call with a mystery illness over winter vacation had us driving down the mountain in Austria for several days to get him cortisone and vitamin shots until whatever it was passed. So far we’ve always caught things before they went too far. A benefit of being around so often.
I thought my biggest concern with little Scarlett was to watch her belly and see if it grew a litter of trouble. Today I found out that I have to watch her just as closely as Fergus for other problems.
We just got back from an emergency trip to the vet. I noticed this morning that she wasn’t too keen on eating, but I attributed that to the fact that Fergus was usually hot on her heels. But later this afternoon, after sleeping all day, she still wasn’t hungry. Then I spied her repeated trips to the cat box and checked – no ‘deposits’.
Not to go into too much detail but after a little deliberation I called the emergency line (btw all I had to say was the first half of my name and I was recognized instantly). During that conversation the poor kitten was back in the box and this time let out such a cry that the vet heard it on the other end of the line. So I scooped the poor thing into her carrier bag and off we went. One after-hours emergency shot later and she’s locked in the big bathroom with heated floors and her privacy. I’m making her tea and will be checking on her throughout the night, but she’s still purring and seems to be making some, ahem progress.
Luckily, I was home and noticed. Lucky me that I can also do home office all this week and keep an eye on her.
Tentative diagnosis: massive constipation
I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.