We Thought She Was a Goner

The cat came back from death's door, and it took longer than the very next day. Our cat Boots is only just now starting to seem like her old self after nearly dying from acute renal failure. The vet does not know how or why she got sick (that would take even more money to find out!). Perhaps she got into some antifreeze (not everyone is careful); perhaps poison (yes, some people do that); perhaps she had a kidney infection.

Renal failure (the link is to a site devoted to extensive information about feline chronic renal failure, but briefly discusses the acute type, as well) is quite common in cats.

Boots is thirteen, a bitty little thing - under nine pounds soaking wet - and is not a big eater. She heads out in the morning and deigns to come in around dusk (mostly). When she stayed in her bed two mornings in a row and didn't even ask to go out, I realized that something was up. For two days, she did not eat or drink, was very lethargic and seeming to go down hill quickly.

Off to the vet where she was diagnosed with renal failure - the numbers from her blood work were extremely worrying. They kept her for IV hydration, but her prognosis was not good. 

Smart vet we have! He started her on antibiotics in addition to the IV fluids, and she responded well enough to come home. But for four days, she hardly ate anything. She would eat three or four nuggets of food from my hand a few times a day. I give her the liquid form of the antibiotic twice a day - neither of us likes it very much.

It's been an emotional roller-coaster: she's eating; she's not eating; she seems better, then worse.

Fortunately, she has been drinking on her own and, finally, has started to eat her regular amount by herself. She loudly demands to go out several times a day and has started hanging out with the other two cats again.

It is impossible to know how long she will be with us; there is kidney damage, and she's no spring chicken. Still, we have her for now, and that's really all anyone can say about any life. These times remind us to appreciate and love what we have.  

A Tale of Three Kitties

Every blogger can surely be forgiven for one pet post. Mine is about our three cats, Lady, Boots, and Bandit.

Lady and Boots are mother and daughter, and Lady's age is unknown. She wandered into the yard one day in March 1997 and had her kittens in the woodpile sometime that May.

Lady is sleek and gorgeous, but showing her age - arthritis in one back leg and pigmentation in her eyes. She plays with her cloth mouse and meows loudly for a few minutes, two or three times during the night - Lady's opera, my husband calls the nightly performance. When I go out, she puts the mousie in my slipper.

Lady is a class act - loyal and lovely.

Boots is Lady's kitten. She is fluffy, cute, and very vocal. Unlike her mother who restricts her vocals to the night, Boots "talks" pretty much all day long.

In spite of a somewhat complaining nature, Boots has a sweet personality.

She does need rather a lot of grooming, especially in the summer. It is impossible to give her a pill.

Now twelve, she has spent much of her life perfecting her diva behaviour. She enjoys being carried to her food bowl, which has to be positioned just so.

Bandit is the newest addition to the family, appearing in the driveway a few days before Christmas 2003, a neutered male, about a year old.

What can I say about Bandit? He shreds drywall, wallpaper, and furniture.  Mostly, he will drink only out of a bottle held by one of us, refusing water in a bowl, sometimes to the point of dehydration.

 He goes out the backdoor and promptly goes to the front to be let in there. He nearly died from kidney failure, but responded to 24-hr care for long enough to recover.

He talks, growls, chirrups, and loves to play with elastic bands. He is Mr. Personality, and everyone loves him, although at times I could happily throttle him.

Most of the time, Lady and Boots snuggle together, and Bandit sleeps elewhere.

But every once in awhile, there is peace in the cat family -

no talking, no opera, no squabbles, and no mousies.

I do indeed love all of them, but whoever said that dogs have owners and cats have staff knew the truth of things for cat lovers.