Part 28: CATch as CATch Can
Ampersand and Play, brothers in their youth
One of my big stressors was knowing that I had to bring my cat back to the vet. There were three kittens: Romp, And and Play. And became Ampersand. My neighbor adopted Romp. I rescued them with their mother from my yard in 2005. Play was always the thin one, but he had gotten up to about seventeen pounds three or four years ago; it was hard to pick him up. Then it seemed like he was getting thinner and thinner, drinking a lot of water, always hungry. I suspected diabetes and cringed at the thought. Surprisingly, just by throwing treats into the cat carriers, he jumped in and I was able to close the lid. He was not happy but I got him to the vet about a month ago and a blood test reveal his blood sugar was over three hundred, twice normal. The vet originally thought it was a thyroid issue and the thought of giving Play pills seemed ominous. But when I found out the cat was diabetic via a phone call, on top of all my mother’s health issues, I lost it. Were they really expecting me to inject insulin twice a day? So, Play’s return to the vet was hanging over my head and I just couldn’t get away from all the crisis calls for my mother. But this was adding to my anxiety, a follow-up had to be done, and he was smart having learned before that getting into a carrier was trouble. There was no way I could lure him in. His mother and brother, both very much chubbier than he, would jump right in and eat tons of treats. Play cautiously observed from the sidelines.
I kept calling the vet’s secretary to report my attempts but not my triumphs. And frankly, I am fearful of formerly ferals who were raised outside for several months and know how to fend for themselves. Cats know when you lack the confidence to take charge and they pooh-pooh your attempts to catnap them.
I decided to employ my trusty friend David who trapped Princess Blue, and who, in 2005, trapped all three of my lured in kitties to take them to the vet for shots and neutering.
David arrived with his usual confidence. After an hour of dripping in sweat, chasing Play over, under, into and out of the tightest places, I heard him admit: This guy is tough. It’s not as easy as I thought it would be. Should I feel upset that he was unable to nab the kitty or vindicated that a grown man with expertise was brought to his knees?
After an hour and fifteen minutes, David descended the stairs with Play swinging in a net. Yes, he had to resort to a net. But when he put Play down, still netted, it peed on my new carpet and tried to break free. And he still had to be put in the carrier. That took at least another fifteen minutes of closing himself off in the bathroom with said netted cat and removing it from the net to put/stuff into the carrier. Shades of 2005 when trapping ensued and crash, boom, bam emanated from the bathroom like something from a cartoon’s foley artist.
I called D., the vet receptionist. In tears. We are coming, don’t leave! But first she put the vet on the phone for me to report my tale of hunt and capture and how two aging adults were near heart attack in doing so.
Once at the vet, (this is the greatest couple of vets ever) Dr.B. said something that loosened me from the grip of guilt: if you can’t manage him, how are you going to give him two shots of insulin a day? (my sentiments exactly). If I go on vacation or have to leave for an emergency, he has to go to the vet but HOW can we all go through this again? Kitty might just have to do the best he can unregulated on special food. Dr. B. is going to test his urine and see if he is indeed a “true” diabetic. If he is passing sugar he is, but if he is stressed from the whole ordeal and going to the vet he isn’t. But truly, he looks thin and his bones are showing. I need less stress in my life and he already has had a much longer one than expected had I not taken him in. It’s the best I can do for now. But I still feel guilt.
Princess Blue in my back yard after the birth of the September litter
Princess Blue and her love and mate, Sorbet
Princess Blue, after having been spayed and a tumor noted, was sent to my vet for care, paid for by my wonderful friend Jackie. While we were there, David and I visited. There she was in a cage, curled up on the bottom, having just had a mastectomy, the tumor removed. Sadly we learned yesterday that she is FIV+ (the feline equivalent of AIDS) which makes it difficult in finding a home. And it is thought that she is an older cat. When I saw her I cried, sorry but I am a mush. She tried so hard to help her many litters survive. Goodness knows how many she had had over the years, I managed to save most of one litter, but I am sure many of her babies perished of cold, hunger, illness. She will finally be spared the horrible burden of creating three to four litters a year.
My gracious mother cat, Caramel Petunia, a kitten herself having kittens, rescued 2005
In October 2004 I saw my little cat family in my yard, a tiny mother cat doing the best she could to help her babies survive, always allowing them to eat first. I watched them through the back door for many hours before I knew how gracious a mother cat is, how loving and selfless and I knew I had to do something. Before I knew it it was January and I had been luring them in to eat and they needed to get to a vet. That’s when I hired David.
But seeing Princess Blue yesterday, so weak from two surgeries and so vulnerable got to me. Animals don’t ask to be thrown out, to live outside, it’s a cruel life.
But maybe what really got to me was that Princess Blue had just had a mastectomy for a tumor; it is assumed as of now that it is cancerous.
In 2004 before I rescued my cat family, I had just had a mastectomy as well. Watching the mother cat and her babies took me away from my own pain.
They saved me.
This series is linked: see “continued here.” Also, below the line there will be links for the previous post and the next.
I forgot to say this: I know how hard it is to catch a cat. I wait for my cat to be sleepy. Once asleep or almost, throw a blanket or towel on top of him/her. Wrap the towel tightly around the cat. This is a practical idea to get them inside the kennel or to give them shots.
My rescued cat (a she) is adorable. She is half-Siamese half-who knows what but she is the sweetest cat I have ever had. I hope she doesn’t get diabetes. She likes tuna but is very resistant to any other wet meal.
Jules is 11 years old and with the switching to the wet food he really looked slimmer since, it was looking more like deflated balloon at first. I really hope your cats will get better, you really need a break, maybe you can try to keep him off dry food completely to see if it does a difference in his case…
Over a year ago Jules (my cat) was eating and drinking too much, starting to make messes all over the place so the dance of catching him to take him to the vet was a 4 against 1 race. Then the vet been doing all the tests and told me he probably been eating Christmas decorations I knew it was impossible because I didn’t put any up because I was exhausted taking care of my mom and been sick myself. So Jules stayed at the vet for 10 days, then I got the news he was diabetic and would need medication…and probably surgery to his back legs, there I ask the vet with all that how long he thinks the cat would survive and his answer was “not very long”. That’s when I ask what I can do to keep Jules happy, he told me “no more dry food, only wet food. So I did pick the cat back home, not thinking he would survive very long, he never wanted to eat wet food but I refused to give him any of his dry food it’s really been a struggle but after a week he was doing a little better, 3 months later he was getting used to his wet food and he wasn’t having anymore issues drinking, his back legs unlocked and was running and playing like a young kitty and still a year later.
That is very encouraging. I have been using very high quality canned food: all meat and no grain. I also got a special canned food from the vet, Purina D/M. I bought a bag of the Purina D/M (diet management) food from the vet and after reading the ingredients I returned it. Corn meal! Soy meal. Crap!! So I got something by Evo that is very high protein and low carb. I let them have a little and I put it in water to make them drink more. Soon after the first diagnosis Play looked a little better but then he seemed to be losing weight again. He IS older than he was when he weighed more, but compared to his mother and brother he looks scrawny and boney and like he lost some muscle. There is a danger to the hind legs from deterioration I read. They all like the wet food so that won’t be a problem.
Your story is so similar to mine in many ways and I thank you for the hopeful comment; maybe insulin isn’t the only way.