Bob's been home for almost a week since he had surgery to remove the right lobe of his liver. We found out it was cancerous, but now removed, it could be considered to no longer be a threat to his health. Of course many of you know, they also biopsied one of his mesenteric lymph nodes, where they found he had lymphoma. As in humans, the amount and severity of cancer is rated. In humans, they call it “stages,” and in cats, it's called “grades.” Bob's cancer is “low grade,” which means we may have caught it very early on in the game. Dr. Weisman said it could be a blessing in disguise because if she hadn't done the surgery, the lymphoma would have grown unchecked until it was probably too late.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob a few days after surgery.

At least Bob has options and I'm glad I didn't wait another month to see how homeopathy would work for him. He just would have gotten sicker.

There are two great candidates to help Bob with the next phase of treatments. It's ironic that they are almost exactly the same distance from here-about 50 miles. Dr. Post was referred to me by Dr Weisman and the other, Dr. Impellizeri, who runs the Vet. Speciality Center of the Hudson Valley was glowingly referred to me by Dr. Larry as well as Super Deb-who used to WORK for this Vet. I have appointments with both Vets, but am leaning towards Dr. Impellizeri.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Enjoying freedom from his pen and a nap near my space heater.

I'm really grateful to live in a place where I have choices and don't have to drive Bob hundreds of miles for treatment. It's important to me to be careful about what Bob must endure and the value of the stress on him versus the beneficial results. I find myself treating him as gently and lovingly as I can. He feels like he's made of glass.

It's been a long week, but Bob continues to recover. He's eating well and some times looks perky, though he is tired and sleeps a lot. He loves his heated bed and his dehydrated chicken treats. His belly turned black and blue from the surgery, but that is starting to fade. Tomorrow we visit Dr. Weisman to have his staples removed.

What is very frustrating is that Bob caught Nora's upper respiratory infection. I gave Bob some homeopathic treatments and he seems less afflicted. I certainly hope that this is the case. The last thing Bob needs is to be sick with something else.

Last night, I let Bob out of his pen. He was glad to be free from confinement and went right back into his old routine. He sits quietly, in “his spot” and waits for meals to be served. He sleeps in his favorite places, too. He gave me a real thrill by climbing the stairs to our bedroom, then not only did he sleep in a cat bed next to my side of the bed, in the middle of the night he climbed into the "human" bed and slept with us all night. At one point I got up to see if he was on the floor and was surprised to see him flanked by Spencer and Blitzen at my feet. I didn't want to go back to sleep. I wanted to just watch him and have the joy last of seeing Bob surrounded by his family, resting comfortably, maybe even happy.

He's a good boy, that Bob.

WARNING: THERE'S A GRAPHIC PHOTO OF BOB'S STAPLED UP BELLY AT THE END OF THIS POST.

Bob made it through the first night after the major surgery to remove the right lobe of his liver. It had a 5cm mass on it and it needed to go. Fortunately, Dr. Weisman was able to remove the entire mass, but because the rest of Bob's liver didn't look so great, she had to biopsy a small part of that, as well. She also biopsied some lymph nodes. The pathology will take FIVE DAYS. This means that with the holdiay upon us, I'm guessing I won't know a thing until next week. For now, the goal is to get Bob to perk up, start eating and use his litter pan.

This morning I was told that Bob was not eating. He's on pretty serious pain meds right now and between that and the operation, he must feel like Hell. I offered to come see him and try to get him to eat, since I know all his favorite treats. I figured, if nothing else, I had the dreaded dry food to give him if he wouldn't eat anything good.

I couldn't get up there fast enough, but I admit to being one of the many people who stayed up late the night before to (attempt to) see the Eclipse. It was too cloudy here and though I hoped the stupid clouds would move out of the stupid way, they did not. I watched some of the “show” online, but it felt phony and awful. I went to bed and got a few hours of sleep, but felt hungover when it was time to get up.

Sam wanted to see Bob, too, so we ditched whatever plans we had and grabbed some raw food and treats for Bob. We stopped at the store and I bought a small container of chicken liver. Gross, but yes, Bob LOVES it. I don't give him much of it, but I had to arm myself with everything I could, in case he would eat for me.

We got to VCA Cheshire in the early afternoon. They told us they weren't busy and to come over. Just as we got there a family got ahead of us. They were there to see their dog, so we had to sit and wait for them to stop visiting with the dog so we could see Bob. My blood started to boil. Why they couldn't put Bob in an exam room was beyond me.

The minutes ticked by. After 30 minutes I was about to spit fire. Then, out of nowhere, was Dr. Weisman. She came over and explained what was going on, that it was very busy in the back and that they were going to put us in a room with Bob. At last! As we stood up to walk to the room, I saw through a window in the door to the hall. A tech was holding BOB in her arms!!!!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Oh, Bob!

I asked for a towel for him so he wouldn't have to sit on the cold steel exam table and she brought out two. Bob seemed like Bob. He didn't look near death's door, but he wasn't very perky, either. We gave him pets and kisses. He started to purr faintly.

Bob has the best purr. I have an audio recording of it that I must figure out how to share one day.

Bob was clearly in pain. He didn't move much and his head was almost always down on his paws. He was wiped out. What did I have done to my boy?

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Get some rest, my sweet boy.

We began putting different food combinations together. We brought out all his treats. He ate nothing. He was fine if I rubbed something against his mouth. He even licked at it a bit, but we thought he throat was hurting from being intubated, along with everything else. He wouldn't eat raw, or dried chicken treats or dried salmon treats. I opened the container of chicken livers. I had no way to chop them up so I washed my hands and just ripped up little bits. I put them right under his nose and he licked a few off my fingers. It wasn't much, but it was something. I tried over and over again, to encourage him to eat something more, but he refused.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. We will be strong for you, Bob and keep those prayers and good wishes comin'!

I didn't want to push him too hard, so I let it be. I washed his face and he purred for me. We pet him and talked to him, told him to get better. I wanted to see his belly, but I didn't want him to exert himself by having to stand up or roll over. I wanted to sit on the floor and hold Bob on my lap until he felt better again.

I ran into the Doctor again. We talked about Bob. She wasn't too worried about him not eating. He's on an IV, so that's good. Her concern is she wants to see Bob perk back up. Have some twinkle in his eyes again, then he can come home-even if he's not eating. That surprised me, but she knows best. Instead of coming home today, our next hope is that he will come home tomorrow NIGHT, at the earliest. She said if we had been through what he had, we would be in tremendous pain and not want to eat, either. On a good note, Bob DID use his litter pan and had a good pee. He wouldn't use their tiny pan, but when they gave him a big one, he went for it and made a big mess, splashing the litter all around! How unlike Bob to make a fussy mess! Maybe he still has some “Bob” left in him?

The tech came to get Bob and I gave him another kiss. She lifted him in her arms and that's when I saw it...his belly. My heart sank. I knew the incision was going to be long, but I wasn't prepared for what I saw. My Bob looked like franken-kitty!

I could only think about how badly that incision must HURT and on top of that, what's going on inside his body right now? My poor, sweet boy. I am so sorry I had this done to you, but I know it was your only chance of getting better. To know I made my cat suffer so much...well, it's a very uncomfortable feeling. If I think about it too long, I'll start to beat myself up. I made this choice for him-his one chance. Now he has to heal and show us he can make it and I will do everything I can to help him get there.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Franken-Bob. :-(

All I know is, Bob has survived the surgery, now he has to survive the recovery.

I love you, Bob. I hope you can come home, soon.

I'm trying not to think about Bob...24 hours a day. I'm trying to remember to not loose my footing, to stay calm, to try to breathe. I don't want to make a rash decision, but I also don't feel like I have a lot of time to think. With the Holiday crush upon me and with Polly and her family and MacGruber about to arrive, I need to get things ready, but all I want to do is lie down next to Bob and just be with him.

I know I can't take enough photos of him. I can't pet him enough times. I can't listen to his crazy purr long enough. I got up at 5am, went downstairs and just sat with him and petted him. I can't take one second for granted. I can't assume he will be here tomorrow. Sure, that's true for all of us, but when you KNOW the sand in the hour glass is running low, is there any way to prepare?

I've made a few more decisions. I took Bob to get a blood test to check to see if his blood will coagulate properly. If it does, then he is a better candidate for surgery. If it does not, then we'll stop here and just let Bob live out whatever days he has left. If he's OK to go ahead, then I'll meet with the surgeon. She is VERY well respected-certainly one of the best. I'll only have a consult with her, that's it. If she says we can go ahead, then I have to make a very difficult decision. Dr. Larry told me that if we did open Bob up and they find that he has cancer, to wake him up out of sedation is unkind. It would be asking so much of Bob-to have him wake up, then face painful recovery, only to die a few weeks or months later in even more pain from the cancer spreading.

“You have to prepare yourself now for being able to make that choice for Bob, if it comes to that.”

There goes my heart, breaking into little pieces. I can't put Bob through Hell, but there IS a chance it is benign, operable, can be removed and he can live for a few more YEARS. How can I not take that chance? My head feels like it's going to explode.

I ordered a new cat tree a few weeks ago-before all this mess with Bob. I bought it on a lark, thinking it would give another one of my cats a place to go if she got stressed out. The box just arrived a few days ago when I was hormonal (why do cat trees show up when I have PMS? If you want a laugh, read THIS and THIS). Sam and I weren't on great terms (still). Somehow we still managed to put the thing together without killing each other.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen, the parts inspector arrives.

In a way, it was nice to do something that got my mind off things. The simplicity of tightening down a bolt helped me stop obsessing. Seeing the parts scattered across the floor, while my cats excitedly inspected every piece made me break with tradition, as of late, and actually smile.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob helps with the inspection, but as usual, Nicky fails by smelling Bob's tail, instead of the parts of the cat tree.

Blitzen was fascinated. He sniffed and climbed on everything. Bob and Nicky joined in, but were soon bored and went back to taking a nap. Blitzen, began to scratch on the sisal posts just seconds after they were in place. Lock down a sleeping platform and he was on it having a field day.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob!

Blitz was certainly test-driving the cat tree and it was a good thing he did-he's about the ONLY cat that will actually FIT onto or into most of the damn thing!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bratty boy “helps.” (we're still building the cat tree at this point)

It's small. This is not a cat tree for full grown cats, save for the main platform that's big enough for any cat to lie on, but the rest of it is tiny. One piece was so small we didn't even bother to attach it. Honestly, this will be GREAT for my foster kittens, but my guys will not be able to enjoy this very much.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson

Of course, tell that to Blitzen. He loved it. There was only one problem.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Blitzen gives this cat tree a 1-Belly Up!

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bucket o' Blitz.

“Someone” is not big on sharing.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Spencer was investigating the top of the cat tree when Blitzen reminding him whose cat tree it was.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Not sure which end of Spencer you're seeing in this photo.

I admit that Blitzen is good for cheering me up when I'm feeling down, but it makes me feel guilty, too. Blitz is, in some ways, much like Bob. Blitz has a crazy purr and it's obvious he shares a resemblance with Bob, though Blitz is very light in coloring. Blitzen is all things joyous and fun-full of promise and magic. He has decades ahead of him, most likely. His story is just beginning.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. King of the Cat Tree (for now)

Bob was like Blitzen once-a long time ago. I never knew Bob in his youth, only as an adult. I bet he was a handful when he was a baby. I find myself wishing that I COULD have been his “mama,” from day one. I could have prevented him from getting FIV+, he'd still have all his teeth and most likely, he never would have gotten a mass on his liver in the first place...but I can't get a “do over” to put Bob back together again. I don't have the right tools and I'm pretty sure the instructions are written in Chinese.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Bob, enjoying his heated cat bed.

Located in Washington State, 10 year old Pauline, is in need of a home where she can live out the rest of her life. She has about a month or so left before she'll be put down. Her current foster Mom is doing everything she can to find a home for this cat before she, herself moves to Arizona-to a place where she faces for more difficult than just landlord issues. Karen has been trying to do the right thing for Pauline-but it just isn't going to happen without our help.

Here's why-

"There is more to it than just the landlord thing. I have her now isolated in the guest bedroom. One of my permanant cats hates her, so moving with all three into a small mobile home for the winter is just impossible and not a good life for Pauline. Yes, I have put up signs, and ad in the newspaper. I have checked with area Shelters...they all PTS an older cat with CRF, because they are deemed unadoptable. That's why I'm seeking a 'private adoption'."

Her cat Sophie has already viscously attacked Pauline which is why Pauline is isolated.

Here's more about Pauline from her rescuer, Karen:

You've heard of "Perils of Pauline"? Well, that's how I got my present name.

I was certainly in peril when I was found collapsed in the street on a cold rainy day. I weighed only 3 pounds then---I was so hungry !

Still too thin, but now with a full belly, Pauline waits for that special person to give her a forever home.

I have been to the vet, and unfortunately I have kidney failure (CRF). I'm about ten years old, maybe older. I also have reduced range of motion in my hind quarters--probably arthritis. I also have a heart
murmur.

I am front de-clawed and spayed. I'm not a run-way model, just an ordinary brown tabby Manx cross. I have a short kinky tail. I have two dark stripes on each front leg that look like garters !

Who could resist such a sweet face?

I am FIV and FeLV negative. No fleas or ear mites, either. I was once well cared for. I did not do anything wrong, but my previous family has not come for me.

I need a home where I can spend the rest of my days. Perhaps someone who knows about CRF and the care that I will need.

I like to lay in the sun. I will lay on laps and purr. I make a mean batch of biscuits. I'm a nice kitty.

I don't get into trouble and I'm quiet. I do let you know if I'm hungry. After all, I'm making up for lost time. I weigh five + pounds now. My appetite is good ! I'm not a fussy eater and I really like canned food.

I'm OK with other friendly cats, but I don't know about dogs.

I will be put to sleep if a place is not found for me soon.

If you'd like to learn more about how you can adopt Pauline, please contact: ME! (I will get the info to Karen.) info@coveredincathair.com

Can't adopt? Well, spread the word, then! Pauline needs us to let our friends know-especially if they live in Washington state, about this lovely kitty! Let's find her that wonderful, loving home she deserves!

I had every intention of taking the kittens to the Vet, mostly so that Dr. M could compare them to tiny Cinnamon, but not do anything else with them, since they seem to be fine. Cin was the one whose eye bothered her and who is skin-and-bones skinny. Just having the Vet look at one kitten could not cost much. Of course, that was not to be.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Waiting to see Dr. M. while Dr. Larry lollygags in ITALY.

The kittens were a definite hit with everyone at the newly-almost-done-with-remodling Maple Ridge Animal Clinic. I was sad that Dr. Larry didn't decide to scrub his family trip to ITALY, just to take care of my kittens, but I'll have to get over that.

These kits are delightful. After the initial “ooo-ing” and “ahh-ing” was over, Miss Amber brought us into the exam room, put the carrier onto the floor and opened the door. One by one each kitten shot out of their confines and began to race and sniff around the room. Cin ran to the back of one of the exam tables, into a TINY space where she was able to collect a bit of fuzz and give us a good scare. If she had been timid, I doubt we would have been able to get her out of that space! A moment later she was bored with her confines and jumped out and continued to run around with the others.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Super Deb giving Sugar Pie a lift, while trying not to fall in love with her.

Miss Amber began to weigh the cats. Cin is up to 1 lb 2oz, which is up from being less than a pound a week ago, but still about 6 ozs less than her SISTERS..and yes it is confirmed, I have a GIRL CLUB!

Weighing the cats was a good indicator of age, which is at about 6 weeks. I began to feel some dread as each cat had their temp taken and we discussed what should be done for the kittens. That's when I realized this simple visit was going to cost some bucks. Ugh. Then, Dr. M. came into the room and started to talk about testing, more shots, more meds...ho boy..here we go...and I don't get a discounted rate, (because I haven't asked and because I'm not a Non-Profit just yet and because I'm scared to ask, so I have to feel the situation out when Dr. Larry gets back from his trip) so this is going to hurt.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Yodel and Sugar Pie enjoy running around while their sisters get weighed.

Cinnamon's temp was a bit low, but not dangerously so. The stool samples came back. One tested negative for anything and one Elisa tested positive for Giardia. Dr. M wants me to treat all the kittens for about a week and said that this may be why ALL of them feel very boney. What is weird is they don't have the runs! For such little kittens they have really nice stool. Nice size and shape. Not mushy or even that smelly. Maria and I have been giving the kittens Bene-Bac, which may be keeping their digestive tract in better condition? One thing's for certain, the cats LOVE IT, so getting them to eat it is not a problem. And yes, if you foster cats, you need to know about the beauty of a nice stool. Many kittens have lots of intestinal parasites. Add to that, transitioning from their mama's milk over to cat food and odds are you'll be seeing mooshy poop-and with kittens that can be a dangerous thing if it doesn't resolve.

The other thing I learned was that because I wasn't sure how old the kittens were when they were pulled out of Henry County, I opted to let the vet in GA decide if they should be started on FVRCP shots. Well, that was a waste of time because they were too young. Now we have to start the series all over again. So each kitten got a shot, which really hurt poor Cin. and which didn't bother Sugar Pie a bit. The shots will be repeated again in 4 weeks and 4 weeks after that. They also should be re-snap tested for FIV and Feline Leukemia because they were too young to have an accurate result, as well. Great! So I just wasted a bunch of money on Vet stuff in GA. Live and learn. I hope learn...oy veh.

©2010 Robin A.F. Olson. Sugar and Honey B. completely dwarfed by the chair.

Cinnamon's eye was definitely irritated. Was it due to a trauma or the beginning of the dreaded URI beginning to take hold? Whatever it is, she's being treated with antibiotic eye drops to see if we can get her feeling better.

We talked about diet and I'm going to add Nutri-cal to their food for awhile, along with my own idea of adding some plain chicken baby food into their grain free canned. They're also getting some KMR since they're still a bit on the young side. Basically, I give them whatever I've got.

You can say the same thing about the Vet bill...I gave them everything I've got, too. I have sooo got to find a Vet who will work with me and who I like and and and...but I first need to get my papers filed so I'm a proper Non-Profit! I've retained a great Lawyer and am looking forward getting this done, though let's not talk about money, because legal fees and filing fees make the Vet bill look quite tame.

Deep breath. It's going to be fine. It will work out. You won't lose your house and be forced to live in a cardboard box. You won't. Maybe a small shed? Like that guy on “Confessions of an Animal Hoarder?” I have to stop watching that show...more on that next...

I'm sitting here at my desk. It's 102°F outside. It's a bit warm in the house even with the A/C on, but none of that matters. All I can think about is Chester.

I just went to Dr. Larry's to visit Chester. It was quiet there today. The usual sounds of construction were thankfully absent. There weren't any clients. The mad rush had just ended. I wasn't sure I wanted to know how Chester was doing, but there I was, anyway. Lauren, one of the very nice lady-Vet techs, smiled when she spoke of how Chester was doing. I couldn't wait to see him.

Over night Chester had made some sort of great improvement. No longer laying down and eating out of the side of his mouth-he was sitting up and eating furiously. He was sleeping, not like a damp rag, spread out on a table, but curled up as any normal cat might do. Not only that, but when she brought him out for us to visit, I gasped when I saw him. He was standing on all fours!

©2010 Robin AF Olson. Chester looks like a cat again. Hurrah!

Chester is still weak. It's to be expected, but he was UP and reacting to being petted. He was looking around and appeared to be much perkier than even the day before.

I was simply, astonished.

©2010 Robin AF Olson. Chester gets a bit of help to keep him steady as they take his weight for the day.

I bought Chester a catnip mousy toy. This catnip is REALLY strong and there isn't a lot available to purchase. I felt lucky to get some. I wanted to see if Chester would react to it at all; another way to gauge how he's doing.

I should have brought him a napkin because once he got a whiff of the catnip he started to drool a bit! It was clear he liked it very much. Seeing him do something, so completely normal, something I would never think twice about seeing, was truly remarkable. This cat is a cat again!

©2010 Robin AF Olson. Chester digs his catnip mousy toy.

While Chester was rubbing against his mousy, Sam, Lauren and I petted him. His coat feels much cleaner and softer. Though he is still quit thin, he appears to have gained some weight. His eyes were almost zombie-like on Saturday and now they react in a more normal way. It was a blessing to witness this transformation.

©2010 Robin AF Olson. A little bit stoned from the catnip (the tail of the mousy is under his arm), Chester enjoys his pets.

I spoke with Dr. M., who works with Dr. Larry. She was also very impressed with Chester's improvements. I asked if he was going home tomorrow and I think there is a good chance of that happening. It's not for me to discuss or decide-that's up to his family. I might give him one more day of Vet care since traveling in this terrible heat might be very hard on him, but again...that is out of my hands. One way or the other, I think Chester will be home one day soon (KNOCK WOOD, no jinxing here!)

©2010 Robin AF Olson. Chester, you ARE amazing!

We had a nice visit with Chester. It may be our last before he leaves for home. I told him I loved him and that I was proud of him for doing so well and to keep up the good work. I could tell that he was getting tired and needed to rest more. He probably has a long recovery period yet to go.

©2010 Robin AF Olson. Chester loves the attention from his new friends, as he thinks of home and his family who are waiting to see him.

It dawned on me just as we left-that Chester has been receiving Vet care for almost as long as he was lost in the woods. In my minds' eye, I can still see his face, the eyes dark, his body unmoving, under that fallen tree, perfectly blended in with the dead leaves he was about to become part of, forever. For the rest of my life, I will never forget rescuing Chester and his remarkable recovery. There are so few things to be happy about these days. For once, it's nice to take a moment and have something to smile about.

Chester is out of the woods, in more ways than one.

"I'll give you $100. Just take the cat to the Vet and have her euthanized."

This is what one woman recently said to her pet sitter. She was talking about her 13 year old cat, Chloe. Chloe, a beautiful Maine Coon mix with shocking green eyes and a plush coat, who had only known this woman's home her whole life, was now being treated like a worthless, meaningless, nothing.

Chloe's owner was tired of a very common behavior problem in cats-inappropriate urination. Not only had Chloe climbed under the sheets, then peed ON her owner, she defecated on the bed, too. We know it's been going on for years. Chloe pees on anything soft. Chloe lived with two other cats. Was she troubled by them? What about her health? Would her owner even get her to the Vet for a checkup? Certainly, NOT. That would require making an effort.

Fortunately for Chloe, her pet sitter was not about to do hew owner's bidding. Instead, he took Chloe home. Since he wasn't sure he could safely keep her in his home, he chose to place Chloe in a small storage space over his garage. It's dark with just one window and a single overhead lightbulb. It's cold and damp and a bit mildewy-a far cry from the comforts Chloe once knew, but she was safe and in loving hands. That's what really mattered most.

This big, pouffy baby just fits in her prized cat bed. With a new diet, she may slim down a bit and overall feel much better.

He got her a big dog crate and put her inside it with a litter pan. She used the pan properly, but when she was allowed out of the crate, she would pee on any bedding in the room-possibly because it smelled like other cats. Everything was removed, save for one new cat bed. I went to visit her to help set up a better space. We moved the litter pan out of the crate and into a corner. Sure enough she started to use the pan perfectly for a few days in a row.

She was seen by a Vet who said she might have some sediment in her urine that might cause her to feel uncomfortable. Chloe is quite overweight. Her diet needs to be addressed. I also thought she might be backed up with impacted feces. Many years on dry food...there is no telling what sort of shape this cat is really in. We put her on grain free food. She was slow to adapt to it, but this morning I found one (I call it Kitty Crack) that she liked. With a diet change may give her additional comfort and she's on antibiotics for awhile, too.

This morning she peed on a comforter. First I thought it was because it must have still smelled of other cats even though it was washed. I realized it might be WHERE it was placed (inside her crate). She may have thought "inside the crate means go to the bathroom"...so the comforter will be washed again, but this time placed OVER the crate to give her a place to snuggle at night. I brought her a new cat bed, too. Hopefully, she will use that for SLEEPING only.

Chloe looks stern, but it's just the tabby markings on her forehead that give her that expression. She's really a sweet cat.

The pet sitter feels a strong connection to this cat. It made me sad because she may need to be placed in an only cat home and not be able to stay with the pet sitter. At her age and with this behavioral issue, she may have a long road ahead of her in a cold room with little companionship. Is it enough for her, for now? She'll live to see old age, but at what cost? How many others, like Chloe are subjected to ostracization (or worse) by their families for doing the same thing?

Working with inappropriate urination problems is very tough. I've suffered with cats ruining my home for three years! I can really feel for anyone with this problem, but to kill the animal is not the answer. It will take work to get Chloe turned around and find the right home for her, but in the end it will always be worth it to me.

Later that same morning, about 5:06AM:

I realize I never bothered to look at the insert in the box the pain meds came in. I only had to medicate Bob for four days, so why get involved with reading miniscule type with my old people eyeballs?

Really, how bad could it be?

Then I went online and saw THIS.

WHAT

THE

#^#$!?!

Apparently Metacam is NOT approved for use in

CATS

Last I checked, BOB IS A

CAT!

And WHY didn't anyone bother to tell me it has known side effects of

ACUTE (horrible terms since it's far from CUTE) RENAL FAILURE!

This is for a CAT who is at least 15. It would be one thing if Bob was young, maybe he would have better odds of surviving this stuff, but GEEZUS. Maybe we should have let him suffer for a few days with a sore tooth hole and not risk

KILLING HIM!!!!!

Just makes sense to me and ever more so at about 5:37 am.

So let's be calm. It's just one web site with about 30 horror stories of cats on Metacam. I found another web site that said, hey, it's not THAT bad and since cats can't handle pain killers, this is about the best that can be done for them and the benefits outweigh the risks.

This is like the time I took VIOXX. Wow, did I feel good, but luckily I didn't take it for very long because it could have DIED from it. Oops! Guess the FDA missed that one. Oh and when I took "Yaz---that fun and funky birth control pill that's supposed to make your periods like a blissful day at the spa? Well, I was on it for four months. I didn't SLEEP. I got PMDD, instead of PMS and I was violent and suicidal, but hey, I'm just one dumb person. Probably was something else that did this to me though oddly enough, I slept like a rock and didn't try to off myself when I stopped taking it. Now there's a lawsuit claiming increased numbers of women having Heart Attacks, Strokes and Blood Clots from this crap. Huh. Guess it wasn't just me having problems.

This reminds me of the saying; "That which doesn't kill you, makes you stronger (or more pissed off or have not-cute renal failure)."

I'm thinking I have to call Dr. Larry and YELL at him, then ask him if I need to bring Bob to the ER. Bob's breathing seems heavy. I'm trying not to flip out. I wake Sam up, because why should I have to have all the fun, alone? I ask him if he remembers seeing Bob use the litter pan or drink water. He remembers one, but not the other, I remember the opposite. Good, so he must have done both? I get Bob to drink warm water mixed with tuna water so I know he's got some fluids on board. I lay down on the hardwood floor, while he sits in the "cat loaf" position on a comfy cat bed. Fat as I may be, I have not nearly enough padding to be comfortable at this point, but I love Bob and I want to watch him. I'm waiting for a sign, telling me I need to get dressed, rush him to VREC in Norwalk and drop about $1,000.00.

Nothing. No sign. My right shoulder and hip are complaining. I'm really tired. Fuck it. I go back to bed, knowing I have to get up in less than two hours because we're signed up to do a dog transport. Ugh.

Of course, I can't get to sleep. I think about the nice lady's web site. She says Metacam is ok. She has complex math that makes my head spin. How many KG's is Bob? How many mL/KG dose did he get? I need my Parents. They did math!

My alarm goes off. What sleep? I get up to check on Bob. Somehow, while I was lying in bed worrying, one of the cats blew this hairball.

I really like how there's a little swooshy tail at the right tip of the hairball. That's classy.

I can't believe I'm going to confess this, but I got two forceps out and "teased" apart the hairball, to see if I could get any idea of what color the fur was. Sure enough, it was Bob's.

He puked up his food because this Mother of a hairball was ready to blast out. Bob's breathing has always been a bit heavy, but he's had ultrasounds done. He should be fine. All that pissing and moaning for nothing?

Maybe yes, maybe no. I'm still going to have a TALK with Dr. Larry about this.

and no, Bob did not get any more Metacam. Nor will he. He ate well, had a nice long nap on the deck. I have yet to see him drink or use the pan, but I will be watching. I WILL BE WATCHING!