I've been lurking for a bit & decided it was time to make introductions. I currently have one cat, an 11 year old hard luck case I teasingly call the Red Thing. (I tend to give my cats cold hearted nicknames in hopes of instilling modesty. It never works. At least it helps me pretend I'm not completely whipped by the little furballs.) He was originally part of a hoarder's household. From there he went to a rescue, and after that he went to a family that decided they didn't really much like cats after they got him. A mutual friend knew I was an animal person & kept suggesting I add him to my household. I declined the repeated offers for close to two years, as I already had an elderly unsociable cat.
Eventually my old guy passed on. No longer having a reason to say no, I agreed to meet the unwanted kitty. When I arrived he was locked in the cellar with some exercise equipment. The husband opened the door to the room, and I caught a glimpse of a long haired ginger cat. The husband said he'd catch him for me and made a grab for the cat. The cat hissed and fled into the jumble of weight machines. The husband then announced he'd get the cat out and made ready to start moving equipment. I wanted to say, " You dipwad, you'll be moving weights from one side of this room to the other all day if you keep it up." Instead, I just said, "Oh, don't bother. I want to test how friendly he is. Let me see how long it takes him to come out for a stranger." I sent the husband off to eat lunch and made myself comfortable on a weight bench. Sure enough, in a few minutes the cat emerged and stared at me curiously. I ignored him. The cat came closer. I continued ignoring him. Soon I felt two paws on my knee, and I looked down to see the most adorable little pink nose and yellow eyes gazing up at my face.
I said "Well, hello, who is this?" and held out a finger for the cat to sniff. He immediately jumped onto my lap and rubbed against me. I scratched between his ears, along his spine, and down his sides. He was bony and covered in mats, but at least I found no fleas. He was delighted with the attention, arcing his back and hopping between the weight bench and my lap. I was impressed with his friendliness towards me as compared to his hostility towards his owner. "Little guy," I said looking down at him, "you need an upgrade."
We went in for a vet appointment as soon as I got him home. The results of the exam were discouraging. My vet weighed him and found he'd dropped 3 1/2 pounds since leaving the rescue. Palpating his throat revealed a very enlarged thyroid gland. Looking into his mouth, we saw serious inflammation from stomatitis. The previous owner's vet had misdiagnosed the inflammation as gingivitis and had recommended the cat eat nothing but dry food to discourage plaque buildup. Ouch! No wonder the cat was losing weight!
I've been with my current vet for 20 years and 4 previous cats. He knows to give me the plain hard facts. This time, the plain hard facts were that the cat was in considerable pain from the stomatitis, treatment was going to be very expensive, and there was no guarantee of remission even with treatment. Euthanasia was an option. I went home to think about the matter. I was already tapped out emotionally and financially from my previous cat's final illness. However, I was already impressed by the little red boy's sweet personality. Knowing how uncomfortable he was, I was even more impressed. I decided to go ahead with surgery.
Red recovered well and has put on about two pounds. I'm happy I took a chance on him.
Eventually my old guy passed on. No longer having a reason to say no, I agreed to meet the unwanted kitty. When I arrived he was locked in the cellar with some exercise equipment. The husband opened the door to the room, and I caught a glimpse of a long haired ginger cat. The husband said he'd catch him for me and made a grab for the cat. The cat hissed and fled into the jumble of weight machines. The husband then announced he'd get the cat out and made ready to start moving equipment. I wanted to say, " You dipwad, you'll be moving weights from one side of this room to the other all day if you keep it up." Instead, I just said, "Oh, don't bother. I want to test how friendly he is. Let me see how long it takes him to come out for a stranger." I sent the husband off to eat lunch and made myself comfortable on a weight bench. Sure enough, in a few minutes the cat emerged and stared at me curiously. I ignored him. The cat came closer. I continued ignoring him. Soon I felt two paws on my knee, and I looked down to see the most adorable little pink nose and yellow eyes gazing up at my face.
I said "Well, hello, who is this?" and held out a finger for the cat to sniff. He immediately jumped onto my lap and rubbed against me. I scratched between his ears, along his spine, and down his sides. He was bony and covered in mats, but at least I found no fleas. He was delighted with the attention, arcing his back and hopping between the weight bench and my lap. I was impressed with his friendliness towards me as compared to his hostility towards his owner. "Little guy," I said looking down at him, "you need an upgrade."
We went in for a vet appointment as soon as I got him home. The results of the exam were discouraging. My vet weighed him and found he'd dropped 3 1/2 pounds since leaving the rescue. Palpating his throat revealed a very enlarged thyroid gland. Looking into his mouth, we saw serious inflammation from stomatitis. The previous owner's vet had misdiagnosed the inflammation as gingivitis and had recommended the cat eat nothing but dry food to discourage plaque buildup. Ouch! No wonder the cat was losing weight!
I've been with my current vet for 20 years and 4 previous cats. He knows to give me the plain hard facts. This time, the plain hard facts were that the cat was in considerable pain from the stomatitis, treatment was going to be very expensive, and there was no guarantee of remission even with treatment. Euthanasia was an option. I went home to think about the matter. I was already tapped out emotionally and financially from my previous cat's final illness. However, I was already impressed by the little red boy's sweet personality. Knowing how uncomfortable he was, I was even more impressed. I decided to go ahead with surgery.
Red recovered well and has put on about two pounds. I'm happy I took a chance on him.
