March 9th 2011 11:06 pm
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The vet lady put me on an extra Tylan pill over the weekend and reduced my prednisolone to once a day for the next few days. My poop looked a bit better this afternoon, and, true to form, it was spirited out of the litter box and Mom disappeared from the house. (She’s been bringing lots of prezzies to the vet lady. One of them even settled into the snack baggie [Snack baggie! Yuck!] in the shape of a heart!) I’ve never seen my litter box look so clean! Wow!
I got even with Mom this afternoon. She came back grousing about how stinky they are. That last one was in a sealed baggie in a tied plastic bag, but a bit of my eau de parfum still managed to escape in the bus. Mom says it was too funny—she and the woman sitting next to her both sniffing the air with ewww! written all over their faces—both trying not to acknowledge smelling anything.
Mom forgot about my wet food yesterday and can you believe she had to go back to vet lady today! They took away my commercial limited-ingredient food and now they’re giving me only Prescription Diet w/d (intestinal formula). (No great loss for the Natural Balance canned, but whaddya mean no more California Natural kibble! ) But, you know what? That canned stuff tasted great tonight! I sat there looking cute and needy and she gave me seconds.
Okay, so I’m feeling a bit better. My butt feels good without the poop jewels. I’m sleeping and sneezing less, and I’m coming around looking for love again, rubbing against Mom’s legs and giving her lots of gummy kisses.
Waiting for the bus in the cold didn’t sit well with poor Marrakech. She’s coughing now, and Mom probably has to go back to the vet lady tomorrow for more antibiotics. (Let’s see: Saturday: Colette date with the vet, Tuesday: Marrakech and Samsara date with the vet, Wednesday: Mom date with the vet, Thursday: Mom date with the vet. Maybe they should move her bed there.) Some good news, though: Keshy’s cyst is gone and there’s barely even a mark on the skin to show where it was! Was Mom ever surprised!
Samsara is still snurfling and sneezing and honking up a storm. The poor thing just looks miserable. I wish she’d stop sharing my food with me; thank you furry much, I may have given it to her but I don’t want it back!
Effurrybody is running from Mom, the self-righteous furr torturer. She shoves the pill in and the second we open our mouths to complain the water-chaser goes shooting in and down it goes. In all fairness, though, she says she could think of a million things she’d rather be doing. You gotta hear this one!
Prednisolone (liquid) –every 12 hours
Clavamox (liquid) - every 12 hours (just finished one month-long course, probably back on tomorrow)
Inhalers: Flovent – 2 puffs every 12 hours
Proair – 2 puffs every 12 hours
Prednisolone (liquid)–every 24 hours (just tapered down from every 12 hours)
Tylan (capsule) –every 8 hours (3 times a day)
Clavamox (tablet) –every 12 hours
Terbutaline (1/4 tablet) – every 12 hours
L-Lysine Gel Supplement – ¼ teaspoon –every 12 hours (Yeah, good luck—to watch this going on you would think she was being tortured. “Come on, love, just lick the spoon so I don’t have to keep smearing this stuff on your nose.” Pullease!)
Mom was embarrassed. She had to tell the vet she couldn’t swear she got 3 Tylan pills into me on Sunday and Monday. (I’ll never tell, but I think my poops did. The vet was so not happy with her.) I got a bath Sunday and took a swing at her for trying to towel-dry me. I get so upset right after a bath that I get into the litter box sopping wet and have another bout of diarrhea. She didn’t want to upset me more and probably forgot.
Mom’s now using an erasable message board, putting the time and date next to each dose. She’s exhausted and her shoulder hurts from carrying the girls. (The two of them weigh just under 15 pounds, but that’s a bit more than 15 percent of her body-weight.)
We haven’t had time to respond to your kind comments and all the compliments on our new pictures, but we are reading and savoring each one of them. Thank you all so much. Hopefully, we’ll have better news soon.
March 5th 2011 1:09 pm
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What’s up here? She’s hovering. Practically standing there poop scoop at the ready.
Furs, do you know what it feels like? Girl goes into the litter box and out of nowhere, there’s this face peering over and under you. Is she done yet? Is she done yet?
It was still hot and steamy when she took the last one. Snack bags? Label, date? Fridge?
Is she selling ‘em? I didn’t see a ‘best before’ date go on the bag.
Then she took that bag out of the fridge, took it with her and disappeared for a couple of hours. She didn’t have the bag when she came home, but she made me take another one of those stupid Tylan pills. At the rate she’s going that’s gonna’ make 3 pills a day!
Uh ohh! Did she see that vet lady again?
March 3rd 2011 11:57 am
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Before we go into any explanations, I want to get one thing straight: I do not find wearing our neighbor’s poodle’s hand-be-down doggie sweater appealing, fashionable, or sexy.
So, before you start cooing ‘oh, she’s sooo cute!’ Please bind your banners and keep your cobbets to yourself. It’s 23 degrees in New York today and since we take the bus, Bob insisted I wear it. I was so stunned at first, I didn’t know what hit be. I even let her put by hind legs in the loops. I gave her a hard tibe before we went hobe so she only got by front legs in. I didn’t give her tibe to pull it off be, so she grabbed the cabera instead.
And then she had to post that picture of be sunbathing in front of that box yesterday afternoon. What was that about?
Okay, we’re going to have to keep the rest quick. The vet thought Bob was exaggerating about the color of the poo at first. She brought out a sabple to show of what poo looked like where a kitty really did have intestinal bleeding. We already knew that the one Bob stole frob the litter box yesterday afternoon looked better. We didn’t have an earlier one to show since Bob cleaned the litter boxes on Tuesday evening and threw theb all away. (She thought the color was caused by the bedicine.) The vet had to take Bob’s word that by poop looked albost as dark as the one the vet showed us. So why are we telling you this?
Because it’s a good sign! The vet was very happy about that, because it beans that the bedicines I’b on are working and I’b healing for now. Another piece of good news is that I weighed in at 11 pounds. I’ve never been 11 pounds before. If you go to by photobook and look at the picture called study in beige, you’ll see how thin I was over the subber. That picture was taken just after by hyperthyroid treatbent. I weighed only 7 pounds at the tibe. Bob was recently poking at be through by floofs trying to figure out if Iwas getting chubby. (At least the doggy sweater picture proves that it’s all floof.)
The vet gave Bob bore of the Tylan, and I’b still going to have to take the pred twice a day for the next three days, then Bob is supposed to cut it back to every other day.
During this tibe we’re going to be thinking about whether or not to go ahead with the tests.
P.S. We do have new pictures. It’s just a question of the finding the tibe to post theb.
March 2nd 2011 8:18 pm
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Choo…. Choo, Choo.. Chooo…
I’b a bit better today. Bob is still laughing at be. She says that she knows whenever I walk into the roob. She doesn’t need to see be cub in. But I got to laugh at her too. There was one tibe today, when Bob was having trouble with her allergies, that we were both sdeezing together.
I’b going to the vet toborrow borning. Bob talked to her today and found out that the bedicine isn’t what’s causing by dark-colored poop. The vet says that’s usually an indication of intestinal bleeding. So we’re bringing a sabbple of it with us. The poop is better though and by floofs look pretty clean.
The vet also cut back on by dose of the cherry yuckies because of the sdeezing. Good; then I won’t have to wear so buch of it. It’s really sticky, you know.
Wish us luck toborrow. We’re bringing all sorts of questions to the vet about trying sub of the things that sub of you suggested. Thanks.
February 28th 2011 1:00 pm
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I’b feelig a bit better, but Bob keeps torturig be wif dat dard bedicid.
Good; she’s coblaidig dat her hadd looks like a pid cushiod. She used a taow today, but I’b widdig dis fight; I keep lettig duh cherry yuckies rud out of by bouth. (So dow she’s washig my frodt edd ad dot by back edd.)
Dare’s a lot less blood ib by poo ad it’s stardig to look like ropes agaid. It’s dis fuddy dark color, dough.
Dow if I culd odely stop sneezig life would be good. Chooo!
(Colette, you know that your rhinotracheitis kicks in if we don’t taper off the cherry yuckies slowly. The doctor wants you on them for a while so you really do have to take them!)
February 27th 2011 1:50 am
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I started to answer some questions in the comments section of my last diary entry and realized that it might be better done in a new entry.
Okay. The vet Mom takes me to (right now) is our general practice vet that has been with all us furs for almost 25 years. I’ve seen this vet several times over the past two years since Mom adopted me, and she was the one who caught my feline hyperthyroidism. The iodine-radiation treatment I got for that was at New York Veterinary Specialists. The treatment and whatever tests that were still needed prior to the treatment were performed in that state-of-the-art facility. These are actually some of same doctors that treated BK and Teddy McLovin’.
Ever since Mom got me there’s been a constant dialogue between Mom and the vet about food and treatment options. We haven’t necessarily talked about everything, because how much complaining can you really do? Mom was so happy after my hyperthyroid treatment when I stopped itching myself bald and bleeding in places and I finally made my first rope poop (rather than loose plops). I stabilized with rope poops and we’ve been trying to find (unsuccessfully) better alternatives to the food I’ve been getting. With every replacement we tried to slowly introduce I ended up with a blood in my poop. I stabilized on a combination of Prescription Diet w/d and California Natural kibble and Natural Balance canned Chicken/Liver and Turkey Giblet. Lately, for no real reason, it started to get bad again.
While I have a mile-long list of things I tested allergic to, I never tested allergy-positive for tuna fish. We tried that again after my iodine-radiation treatment, because I love it so much. It was a disaster. We also figured out that we can’t do Natural Balance Venison and Pea or Evo 95% Venison—they both have trace amounts of fish oil in them. Weruva (Grain Free) Chicken made a mess and so did Blue Buffalo’s Chicken product. (I’m also highly allergic to beef, duck, rabbit and lamb.)
When I started giving Mom a hard time about eating my wet food, we tried putting Wellness “deVour” into the food. There was nothing in it that showed up as an allergen for me--it was a disaster. We moved to crumbling Stella & Chewey’s kitty chicken treats into the food. Same deal. Likewise, Stella & Chewey’s raw chicken patties. What the three have in common is cranberries—which is supposed to be a wonderful digestive. That’s when we tried Stella & Chewey’s raw chicken doggie treats—they have only chicken bone meal and freeze dried chicken. No go. The only treats that didn’t make a mess is Wellness Chicken or Turkey—they’re hard to get where we live and Mom decided that we really can’t afford them on a constant basis right now.
(Just one aside—we’ve recommended some of these products to other kitties when they didn’t want to eat. They are wonderful products. I’m the world’s pickiest eater and I loved them! Samsara’s getting them now (no fair!) when she doesn’t want to eat the wet food that Mom gives her once a day with her asthma pill mixed in. Samsara looks forward to the evenings when she gets these treats. And, believe me, she’s living high on the hog when she gets them!)
P.S. I also tested positive for allergies to Brewer’s yeast, which rules out 99.9% of the kibble products on the market. It also rules out Pill Pockets.
Mom is beginning to think that it may not be the food I’m getting right now at all, that it’s my condition deteriorating. And she’s beginning to realize that my giving her a hard time with eating the wet food usually starts a couple of weeks before my poops start getting worse. The one positive side-effect of the prednisolone (cherry yuckies) I’m getting now is that I’ve started eating like a horse. Maybe that’s why I got the horse pills? Mom has always said that I drink like a fish. Marrakech and I practically empty our water fountain once a day.
Anyway, this lengthy preface is just to give you a clear understanding of where we’re at and to say that Mom actually hasn't taken me to the vet since my follow up exam after I got my iodine radiation treatment. But we have been in constant contact with the vet over the phone.
If the Tylan doesn't help, the vet wants to do a biopsy. We and the vet are still trying to avoid the invasive tests—and, up to now there hasn’t been a concrete reason to go ahead with them. Our vet is also looking into an experimental treatment that a West Coast Veterinarian claims he has had success with. Another fur, (wish we could remember who) recommended the book he wrote:
Pets at Risk: From Allergies to Cancer, Remedies for an Unsuspected Epidemic by D.V.M. Alfred J. Plechner (Author), Martin Zucker (Contributor).
The book deals with autoimmune system disorders and a corticosteroid replacement treatment. Our vet is beginning to think that the treatment has possibilities. She wants to do some more research before deciding whether or not to go ahead with this lifetime therapy.
One of the things pointing towards doing this is something else we haven’t really talked about and you most likely missed in my bio: I also have feline rhinotracheitis.
Mom says that for a pretty girl, I sure am a mess.
One last note about this is that, as Alex’s mom could tell you, there is no cure for what I’ve got, and there’s no magic bullet or pill that’s going to make this thing go away. Unfortunately, you try one thing and another and another…. And it’s like a moving target.
In the meantime, it’s really lovely knowing that you care and that you’re all purring for me. You furs are the best!
February 26th 2011 12:01 am
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Egads, what a day! Mom got the Tylan pills from the vet. Those aren’t kitty pills, they’re horse capsules. The vet told Mom to be really careful to make sure that they don’t open because Tylan is really bitter.
This isn’t going to be fun. I tried to scratch Mom today when she gave me the cherry yuckies. (I’m getting good at making sure some of it splashes back out of my mouth.) Out came the rubber gloves and in went the pill. Yuck!
Maybe we can work out some kind of compromise here, Mom. Like you take the medicines and I’ll be a ‘good’ kitty? (No? Why not?)
We were just reading up on Tylan last night—Mom found out it can also be administered via injection.
Well. Let’s see how the pills work out first. In the meantime, I’m getting really good at hiding behind the sofa and under the bottom shelf of the sideboard. Unfortunately, Mom’s getting really good at getting me out from under the furniture too.
Small comfort, she’s giving me a lot of extra love.
February 25th 2011 12:50 am
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I overheard Mom on the phone with the vet today. This is not good--hushed voices--something about most likely IBD.
I heard her saying something about that dose of the cherry yuckies she missed and the blood in my poops. Then she said that even though it's been a couple of days since, the cherry yuckies only seem to be controlling the blood and my poops are worse. Yeah, I've gotten a couple of baths and she did have to use the pet wipes a few times already.
I've also gotten smarter about getting that stupid medicine. She keeps pushing my paw back down saying, "Colette, we don't scratch." Why not? Wouldn't you?
The last part of the conversation I overheard was something about Tylan pills, and I heard her saying that she might have to revive her battle gear (rubber gloves to keep from being clawed).
February 17th 2011 11:41 pm
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Mom asked me to tell you all that we’re here and that your lovely and kind comments (for all three of us) have been keeping her going through setting up the new computer.
She says that she feels like the biggest computer bobo. Wow! What a difference going from Windows XP to Windows 7 and Office 2010. We’ve also always had a desktop. Now we have a laptop—a big leap. I bet I could pawdle (can that replace the word handle?) that pretty easily. Mom says she feels like she has two left thumbs. She also has to look at the keyboard way too often to find cursor movement keys and stuff.
We’re still only going to be on Catster sporadically—she still has to move all our files and do a million other things.
Unfortunately, I’m probably on that million other things list. The cherry yuckies have helped with the poops but I have blood in them and Mom thinks there’s more blood than I’ve had in the past. Looking into the crystal ball, it sounds like there are tests looming large in my near future.
We still love you, it’s just going to be slow for a while. We’re also planning on taking the Valentine’s pictures off the profile pages and putting up some new ones. The new ones, alas, are only a small part of all the files that have to be moved or saved to disk.
I’ve now wised up a bit. I see Mom starting to head toward me with the syringe and I make myself scarce. She still catches me sound asleep. Oh well. No biggie.
Marrakech is starting to do better, but I’ve been taking up some of that slack by being cranky. But, let me tell you, I don’t know what they put in those cherry yuckies; they’ve been making that canned food supper taste awfully good lately. I finished eating everything in the bowl after Mom threatened to save it in the fridge tonight; yesterday I asked for seconds. (She gave me more!)
Anyway, we’ll try to keep you updated as we know more.
February 14th 2011 4:07 am
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In honor of Valentine’s Day we thought that instead of complaining, we would talk about the things we love about each other.
It may be a few days before we get back to effuryone with thanks for Marrakech’s DDP. Our computer is old enough and has had enough problems that it’s going to the computer bridge—it’s only a matter of time before it dies and we lose all our stuff. We just got a new one and need to take the time to set it up and get our files transferred. But in the meantime, we do want to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
As a preface to this writing thought we’d post the wonderful lyrics to Rogers & Hart’s , classic song, “My Funny Valentine”. Obviously not everything is appropriate. We’re cats, not peeps or birds, but the general idea holds so true for us.
My Funny Valentine.
Rogers & Hart
Behold the way my fine feathered friend
Thy virtue doth parade.
Thou knowest not, my dim-witted friend
The picture thou hast made.
Thy vacant brow and thy tousled hair conceal thy good intent.
Thou noble, upright, truthful, sincere,
And slightly dopey gent.
You’re my funny valentine
Sweet, comic valentine,
You make me smile with my heart.
Your looks are laughable,
Yet you’re my favorite work of art.
Is your figure less than Greek?
Is your mouth a little weak?
When you open it to speak,
Are you smart?
But don’t change a hair for me
Not if your care for me.
Stay, little Valentine. Stay!
Each day is Valentine’s Day.
Yes, I am a smarty-pants. But you know something? I’ve been around the block a few times and I’ve earned that badge through the school of hard knocks.
Marrakech and Samsara never knew anything but kindness. They went straight from their biological mothers’ home to Mom. I wish I had been so lucky. I belonged to a family once, and I was always sick. And because I was always sick, I was cranky. Wouldn’t you be cranky if you always felt sick? You know what that family did? They dumped me at Manhattan CACC, a high-kill shelter. Bideawee rescued me, and that’s when the rest of my life began. Bideawee didn’t know what was wrong with me either. They tried to make me better—probably just well enough so that someone could adopt me.
Mom saw my picture here on Catster. I was pawing at the glass door of the cage I was in, calling “come get me”. I need someone to love too. Mom saw that picture and we bonded even before we met. She came to meet me and I took one look at her and that was it for me. I wrapped myself around her legs. I let her put her face in my belly and play with my paws and my tail…
They put a bowl of food in the middle of that room where we got to know each other. I was always hungry and really skinny back then because my body couldn’t digest the nutrients in the food. I had such a hard time deciding between eating that food and making sure that the lady who came to meet me didn’t leave without me. (She did leave without me, but only for the weekend so the shelter could finish giving me a round of antibiotics. She wanted to make sure that we didn’t start off on the wrong footing.) In the end, I abandoned the food and gave Mom my full attention.
I’m not going to say I never looked back. With a history like mine, you carry a lot of baggage with you. It’s really taken me a while to accept that I really do have a home now. And I love it here. Okay, so Marrakech is a pain, but Samsara is really sweet. Do I have to tell you how much I love Mom? I take really good care to make sure she knows it. There’s not a day that goes by without my holding her hand with my paw, without giving her gummy kisses, and without making sure I greet her and do my happy dance when she walks in the door. In short, there’s not a day that goes by without my saying “thank you for loving me”. I make sure that her day always starts with me—I jump on the toilet seat asking for my brushies (usually before she gets her coffee). Not right? Why? I always give her headbonks and gummy kisses too... And I’m always sorry afterwards when I lose my temper over nothing and give her the smacky paw….
This is Mom: Oh, Colette. You are a hard nut to crack, but that is what’s so lovable about you. You’ve gone from a skinny mangy-looking girl, to a gorgeous floof-ball. If you want unconditional love, get a dog. If you want an intellectual challenge, get Colette. One minute you’re stuck- up and aloof, the next minute, there’s no sweeter more lovable kitty than you. And you are so smart in so many ways. You argue with me and you make me laugh.
I just realized that there’s no such thing as reading a book or a magazine in the house anymore. You walk onto them all and cover them. I also realized that I’ve migrated to taking all my meals standing at the stove. It’s so much easier there than having to try to push you away from my plate at the dining room table. Wait a minute…who’s calling the shots here????
I wish people could see the big, powerful girl you are. You make me laugh with those mad, pigeon-toed dashes through the apartment at 90mph, hind legs skidding out in all directions on the bare wood floor. You make me laugh every time you explode out of the bathtub leaving wet paw prints all the way from the bathroom down the hallway. You leap on high surfaces as if they were nothing, but you’ve learned exactly what is completely off-limits and you never go on those things. For sure, I thought when I first saw that, that I was kissing goodbye to some really lovely antique collectibles. That never happened. They’re out where you could get them and I know I don’t have to worry.
I love your gummy kisses and holding paws with you. I love your crazy markings: that white patch under your right eye, even if makes all your photos look like that eye is always closed. And now, I’m going to tell a couple of secrets about those crazy markings of yours that really don’t show up in your photographs but make you even more special. I’m going talk about that fawn-colored bulls-eye right in the middle of the tip of your tail, and I’m going to talk about that one white toe on your foot, and the crazy apricot-colored spot on one of your back feet. I’m still trying to get those to show up in your photographs.
You may not always be the nicest kitty—you are cantankerous. But you’re also a softy. I see you trying so hard to maintain that nonchalant façade of yours, but you always greet me at the door, so happy to see me. When I hold you, you refuse to look at me, and at the same time, you melt into my arms and purr. And then we cuddle up together on ‘your’ sofa. It’s all the more gratifying seeing that I’ve earned your love and your trust because I know that you give neither indiscriminately.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.
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