After the Caturday Night Vet visit, Penwiper seemed mostly a quiet normal Sunday, except he wasn't eating. This wasn't a surprise, given the stuff he was pumped full to make him make him vomit. (Do that to your stomach and see if you want to eat the following day.)
Unfortunately, he still wasn't eating yesterday (Monday). So it was back to his regular vet at Kenmore Animal Hospital. The doctor checked Penwiper out, X-rayed him again, and didn't find anything out of sorts. For example, the bubbles in his digestive tract looked good. (The things you clutch at when your cat is sick ...) Home PW came.
Penwiper then hid under a table in the library and didn't even come downstairs for dinner. Not good. Also, his purr was AWOL, which is truly rare. I served a private meal for him, with yummy fish flakes on it, and he didn't touch it. He did say hello to Katherine in her office late in the evening, and that was it.
PW did wander down for breakfast today, but didn't eat. We served him privately with more fish flakes on it and he still didn't touch it. The Tiger Trio riot +Katherine Derbyshire almost caused with the flakes is a different story -- but we now know the flakes are still good though.) So we made an appointment for now (11:30 AM), although we didn't want to, because we both think half his troubles are caused by packing him up and dragging him off to the vet.
Luckily, he didn't go. Rather, after he had a slightly more active morning with some purring, we served him brunch and he did eat 4 grams. A normal meal is 20 grams, but anything is fine at this point.
So it's back to watching, petting, and feeding for now. All that, and letting PW hide under Katherine's futon while he figures out how his snack is sitting.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Caturday Night's Alright for ... Vet Visits?
Katherine informed me last night (Saturday) that Billy had asked for evening playtime, which the boys had not had in a few days. We got out the pom-pom wand (mostly for Billy) and the Mylar tassel wand for Oscar and Penwiper, and commenced our normal routine.
The normal routine includes private light playtime for Oscar with the tassel while Billy, no longer young, climbs cat towers chasing the pom-pom. Then one of us puts PW through his paces. That includes some serious leaping and climbing, including floor to ceiling sprints to get the tassel off my bookshelf. He usually fails of course, as with the tassel on the end of a wand & string, the mechanical advantage means a snap of the wrist can move it faster than a cat in his prime leaping up and across several feet. (But he's close, which means he's good.)
Since Penwiper didn't catch it at all during the last night's session, I slowed down as we finished. He then did catch it, and as expected he nommed on the toy until I gently pried it away from him. I gave the wand to Katherine to put away along with the one she used with Billy ...
... and then normal ended when I saw PW was nomming on an end of a single piece of Mylar which had obviously come loose from the tassel. By end, I mean he was nomming on under half an inch (of a ~ 5" inch tassle), implying the rest was in him. Sweet Ceiling Cat, a linear intestinal blockage in the making. I freaked, especially since by the time I figured out how to turn the halls lights (yes, I wasn't thinking straight, I've lived in this house 6 years) to get a better look, it's ... gone.
I dove for the computer, looked up the issue, and then called A.E.S. Kirkland, the 24x7 vet serving the Eastside.
They said bring him in. We took him in.
They gave him both an injection and some hydrogen peroxide to try to induce him to vomit, but he didn't. They then X-rayed him at our request (which didn't show anything, but didn't mean it *wasn't* there). Finally, they sent us home advising he might still vomit and telling what to look for if he didn't. We paid (a pretty reasonable amount, given the prompt professional service at midnight on a Saturday), and took him home.
He got out of the carrier, laid down on the comfort of the living room carpet (covered by a training pad) ... and barfed over the side of the pad onto the rug proper. Then he wandered a few feet to the corner of the room and did it again. There was no tassel that we could see, but since he emptied his stomach, our concern was (and is) greatly alleviated.
The carpet messes? Routine. And I've never wanted to see cat barf so much in my life. (And Katherine, bless her, is the one who cleaned it up.)
This morning he didn't each much, but he got something in him and a he's slowly returning to normal, including seeking us out and purring.
We'll keep an eye on him, but we think he's okay.
Sunday Afternoon Update: He's still vomiting most (all?) food, otherwise seems recovering. We're watching him.
The normal routine includes private light playtime for Oscar with the tassel while Billy, no longer young, climbs cat towers chasing the pom-pom. Then one of us puts PW through his paces. That includes some serious leaping and climbing, including floor to ceiling sprints to get the tassel off my bookshelf. He usually fails of course, as with the tassel on the end of a wand & string, the mechanical advantage means a snap of the wrist can move it faster than a cat in his prime leaping up and across several feet. (But he's close, which means he's good.)
Since Penwiper didn't catch it at all during the last night's session, I slowed down as we finished. He then did catch it, and as expected he nommed on the toy until I gently pried it away from him. I gave the wand to Katherine to put away along with the one she used with Billy ...
... and then normal ended when I saw PW was nomming on an end of a single piece of Mylar which had obviously come loose from the tassel. By end, I mean he was nomming on under half an inch (of a ~ 5" inch tassle), implying the rest was in him. Sweet Ceiling Cat, a linear intestinal blockage in the making. I freaked, especially since by the time I figured out how to turn the halls lights (yes, I wasn't thinking straight, I've lived in this house 6 years) to get a better look, it's ... gone.
I dove for the computer, looked up the issue, and then called A.E.S. Kirkland, the 24x7 vet serving the Eastside.
They said bring him in. We took him in.
They gave him both an injection and some hydrogen peroxide to try to induce him to vomit, but he didn't. They then X-rayed him at our request (which didn't show anything, but didn't mean it *wasn't* there). Finally, they sent us home advising he might still vomit and telling what to look for if he didn't. We paid (a pretty reasonable amount, given the prompt professional service at midnight on a Saturday), and took him home.
He got out of the carrier, laid down on the comfort of the living room carpet (covered by a training pad) ... and barfed over the side of the pad onto the rug proper. Then he wandered a few feet to the corner of the room and did it again. There was no tassel that we could see, but since he emptied his stomach, our concern was (and is) greatly alleviated.
The carpet messes? Routine. And I've never wanted to see cat barf so much in my life. (And Katherine, bless her, is the one who cleaned it up.)
This morning he didn't each much, but he got something in him and a he's slowly returning to normal, including seeking us out and purring.
We'll keep an eye on him, but we think he's okay.
Sunday Afternoon Update: He's still vomiting most (all?) food, otherwise seems recovering. We're watching him.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Photo Extra: New Nap Spot!
Billy has a habit of hopping into open dresser drawers, so that's who I thought this was at first. But on closer inspection, all that white identifies this as the other Catzilla brother, Whitey.
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| The new Whitey Cave |
Friday, April 5, 2013
Photo Friday: Mom's Home, Pile On!
+Katherine Derbyshire traveled on business from Sunday through Friday afternoon, and she was indeed missed. Within minutes of her getting home, she was directed to resume her duties as senior self-heating cat cushion for Oscar and Billy.
Only Penwiper routinely uses me as a self-heating cat cushion, I guess I am too fidgety for Billy and Oscar.
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| Katherine the Self-Heating Cat Cushion |
Friday, March 29, 2013
Photo Friday: Some toys are just classics
I heard a familiar noise from the library this morning. When I went to check, I found Whitey happily attacking his old friend, the turboball.
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| The Quiet Hunter attacks |
A few minutes after this picture was taken, Whitey was quietly sitting to the left of the turbo ring. Oscar came up along the right side and gave the ball a tentative poke. It started to roll, but Whitey stopped it and glared at Oscar. "My ball! You can't have it!"
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Billy loves... garlic?
You wouldn't think so, but I was sautéeing garlic and onions the other night, and there he was, pacing around my feet and making happy Billy noises.
It took me a while, but I finally figured it out.
I make a fair number of dishes where cream is added to finish a preparation of sautéed vegetables. And when I cook with cream, I often give Billy the few drops left in the measuring cup. These dishes usually start with, you guessed it, garlic and onions.
Intelligent cat that he is, he has apparently decided that garlic and onions are a sign that cream (CREAM!!) must be coming soon.
Unfortunately for him, this particular dish went in a different direction, with raisins and pineapple and other good things (for humans), but no cream. I had to let him sniff my hands to convince him not to be such a pest.
It took me a while, but I finally figured it out.
I make a fair number of dishes where cream is added to finish a preparation of sautéed vegetables. And when I cook with cream, I often give Billy the few drops left in the measuring cup. These dishes usually start with, you guessed it, garlic and onions.
Intelligent cat that he is, he has apparently decided that garlic and onions are a sign that cream (CREAM!!) must be coming soon.
Unfortunately for him, this particular dish went in a different direction, with raisins and pineapple and other good things (for humans), but no cream. I had to let him sniff my hands to convince him not to be such a pest.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
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