Pawcurious Vet Blog: Pet help, stories, and information with Dr. V

To summarize:

Mulan had renal disease, oral melanoma, and severe allergies.

Emmett got lymphoma- the most chemotherapy sensitive cancer- that resisted aggressive chemotherapy.

Ariel got, well, who the hell knows. I am still baffled.

My cats are a little more subtle; they don’t like those big, dramatic, fatal diseases but they do like to make it known that they have issues too.

Apollo has IBD and food allergies.

And now Calypso has feline oral resorptive lesions. I discovered this while doing a routine dental (which is also how Mulan’s melanoma was discovered.) I was pretty horrified to have missed that, to be honest, since she had to my knowledge exhibited no obvious signs of problems- but I also don’t spend a lot of time examining her outside of her scheduled trips to work with me. She isn’t the kind of cat for which that is, shall we say, conducive.

As one may note in the linked article, oral radiographs really are essential to evaluate the tooth roots in these kitties. Some well equipped veterinary hospitals have these; mine does not, necessitating a trip to the local veterinary dentist. Yes, there are veterinary dentists. And oncologists, surgeons, internal medicine specialists, dermatologists, you name it.

On the day of our consultation, I also had to take Emmett to the specialist for a chemotherapy injection at a different specialty hospital. So Emmett came along for the trip to the dentist, who I’m sure was wondering why this weird person felt it necessary to bring a dog along for her cat’s trip to the dentist. Though that would be a little less bewildering than the oncologist who would wonder what sane person would shove an angry cat in a carrier to take to a dog’s chemo appointment for no apparent reason.

I was very concerned about that as I sat in the lobby, balancing a cat carrier on my lap and a dog leash in my one free hand. I felt I had to explain it so they wouldn’t think I was insane. I heard myself, as if from a distance, talking about Emmett’s chemo and Callie’s teeth and a little voice in my head whispered, “You’ve become one of those people.” The ones who wear wool sweater vests with silver cat pins and tell the lobby their life story and the life stories of each of their pets. But what choice did I have? (But I don’t dress like that.)

(Yet.)

So today was Calypso’s scheduled surgery. I arrive, more nervous than normal because the Evil Spectre of Kevin has me convinced he has it out for my pets. Then the receptionist: “How’s that cute Golden of yours?”

Guess she missed the explanation in the lobby last time.

Me: “He died.”

That ended that pleasant banter.

Anyway, Calypso got her radiographs, had the offending roots drilled out, and did just fine, thank goodness. She is now pleasantly swaying to the after effects of her pain meds in my living room, alternately rubbing me for pets, remembering what I just did to her, then hissing and running away.

Try being a cat, who had to be boarded for a few days. That is pretty stressful.

Then you get constipated because you’re boarded and stressing out.

So then you get dragged to that torture place where they stick you with stuff.

And they put some REALLY YUCKY stuff in your mouth.

And I do mean, really, really yucky.

I’m not sure making this poor kitty get a laxative helped her stress level much, but I do hope it does the trick, because otherwise it’s enema time. And that’s no better.

I’m admittedly more of a dog person than a cat person, so I find myself wondering if perhaps there is something I am missing here, but I doubt it.

Think “cat food.” Think “paradigm shifter.” What could Purina have possibly done to change the way we see cat food? Could it be that they have created a fabulous new low carb protein based meal? Have they committed to eliminating corn in their diets?

Are you ready for this?

ba da dummmmm…..

cat appetizers.

Cat appetizers? This is their paradigm shifting product?

A team of 40 at Purina worked 3½ years to develop this new product, shape it, fine-tune it. They spent hundreds of hours on research and design. When a select group of St. Louis area cat owners last year tested the product at home, they were forced to sign nondisclosure agreements.

Who buys this? WHO BUYS THIS, I SAY? I’ll tell you. The person who buys this is the same person who brings me their 24 pound “Maine coon” for skin problems, hauls their overstuffed blob from its Juicy carrying case, readjusts their crystal collar and then tells me they can’t afford antibiotics. And when I suggest weight might be the cause of the skin folds leading to the infection, the owner insists there is no way they can change their pet’s diet since “Mr. Purrface is very particular.”

Treating your pet well, and treating them as a human are not necessarily the same thing. Have you ever seen a feral cat nibble on a gecko before tucking into a finch? Why would anyone pay for small, prettily packaged portions of non-balanced pet food that serves absolutely no new purpose? (don’t answer that.)

The best part of this article? The comments. You must read the comments.

I thought this was an exciting moment. Remember Dudley?

From 32 pounds to….da da dum…. 26.5! We are on our way!

I went into the room to congratulate the owners, an older couple. The man looked less than impressed, but the wife was thrilled. After a little bit of casual digging, it became pretty obvious that he was the source of the ham-sneaking, and the Missus had finally laid down the law. She was glowing at her success.

As they were leaving, we revisited the idea of a dental cleaning, as well as a repair of Dudley’s severely stenotic nares.

“Do we really need to do that?” asked the Mister. “He’s seven and has been fine so far.”

I demonstrated my new favorite trick, pinching my nose partly shut and breathing in. I look stupid but it is quite effective, especially when I invite skeptical clients to play along. The Missus, of course, tried it and was immediately contrite.

As they were leaving, the Mister (who did not participate in my demonstration) said, “We’ll think about it.”

The Missus waited a beat, leaned over and whispered, “We’ll do it.”

Dudley, looks like things are looking up!

I mentioned briefly, a few weeks ago, that I got a guinea pig. I haven’t gotten a chance to say much, or take pictures of her, since I’ve been a little overwhelmed with all the other stuff going on. But she was cute, young, and she needed a home, and I thought she would be a good distraction for the kids- someone for them to take care of.

We debated about names. I vetoed “Cutie” and “Mr. Guinea Pig”, since she was a she, and we all agreed on Ariel. Not being that experienced with cavies, I consulted those who knew more than I and became knowledgeable enough to make do. $100 in equipment later, she came home.

They kids been doing admirably in their role as caretakers. She got pellets and hay and fresh veggies twice a day, Vitamin C, all that guinea pig stuff. She was growing well, chirruping and going to town on her greens.

I spent this weekend in San Francisco with my husband, a much needed weekend to take my mind off of things. I debated canceling the trip, then decided that I could use the distraction. It worked most of the time though I did spontaneously burst into tears on multiple occasions.

I arrived home today, feeling a little less raw. Hung out with the kids, said thank you to the grandparent who watched the flock for the weekend, and went to check on Ariel. Who had, apparently, checked out. She was past the recently departed stage, shall we say. I reached in, looking with dread, and subsequently reacted. It wasn’t pretty.

As far as anyone knows, she was eating and running around last night. Upon further reflection, the grandparent on duty did notice that she was curled up in a corner this morning but simply assumed she was sleeping.

The children took it better than expected, and we had a guinea pig funeral this afternoon. My thoughts immediately went to them, but I have taken it harder than they have. It is beyond comprehension to me how this could have happened like this, other than the universe is just nasty and capricious sometimes. I feel a bit of a failure, to be honest. “Promise me no more animals for a bit,” my husband said upon looking at my dejected face, and I had choice but to nod.

I’m really worried people are going to think I’m some Munchausen-by-proxy animal killer what with all this death and destruction going on around here. Good god. I truly have no clue how this happened.

I didn’t even get to take a picture of her. Goodbye, Ariel. When Kevin picks you up, do me a favor and bite him.

I am overwhelmed by the kindness here. Although I haven’t responded to each comment, please know that I read each and every one- multiple times- and each was like a warm hug to me.

As most of you probably know, showing your grief about a pet is hard in the real world- most of us are given a day at most to mourn, then we’re sort of expected to suck it up and soldier on. As I work through this I think often of my friends who have been here in this place- Kim, Karri, Meg, and so many others- and reflect on how grateful I am to be surrounded by people who understand.

There is much sadness in the world and I don’t at all pretend that there are not those who are dealing with things so very much worse, but I don’t think that fact invalidates one’s own experiences.

I was thinking about that tired old starfish story today- you all know the one. But in this, I’m not the person on the beach but the starfish.*

*Just in case my marine biology professor ever stumbles upon this, I am obligated to relate to everyone that the correct term is ’sea star’. Dr. Houston, I haven’t forgotten.