Mancat at the Office

Hi everyone, Jake here. Some of my friends know that I have not been well lately. I have no conclusive diagnosis, but it's probably related to my hyperthyroidism.

Mom became unhappy with my regular clinic, so she decided to get a second opinion from a holistic veterinarian. She practices conventional medicine plus things like acupucture. Unfortunately, she is located several towns away. I had my first appointment there on Monday, January 19 when Mom was off work for the MLK Day holiday. The new doctor mostly agreed with the conventional treatment for me, but I was in bad shape. I would not eat and she was very worried about my anorexia. She gave Mom more meds for me, took my blood, and administered sub-Q fluids.

My follow up appointment was Wednesday at 11 when Mom was to drop me off for the rest of the day. Because the new doctor was closer to where Mom works, she took me to her office in the morning.
I had never been there before, so I had to try out Mom's chair

and explore around the office. Mom's colleagues were surprised that I was so sick because I was very alert and wanted to explore.

The afternoon at the vet's office was almost like I imagined an afternoon at the spa. I was treated very well, the air was wonderfully humidified, there was soft stress-reducing music, and the place smelled good. The doctor said that I had made a lot of progress in those two days.

I am on three different meds, Tapazole for my thyroid, an antibiotic for an infection, and something that acts as an appetite stimulant. The doctor gave Mom some tips on medicating me. Now she wraps me in a towel with just my head poking out so I can't bat her away with my paws. I guess it's for the best, but I hate having pills shoved down my throat.

I'm eating a little better, but still not enough to satisfy Mom. I think the only thing that satisfies her is that I snuggle close to her and purr and purr.

I do a lot of sleeping and this is my favorite spot on Mom's bed when she is not there.

I still feel that I have a lot of life left in me and hope to enjoy Valentine's Day with the lovely DaisyMae.

~Jake

Bathsheba's Kill and Jake's Trip to the Vet

Hey, Tripper, you called me "old" at the big birthday party yesterday; I'd look up your exact words, but Mom is too cheap to pay Chatzy $9 for the full transcript. Yeah, I know that at nearly 16, I'm getting up there, but while I like my naps and relaxation, I still have tortitude and I have a killer instinct.

After the party, I decided I needed to kill something, so I went outside and this vole made the mistake of crossing my path. I don't think that big ol' Trip will be bunny-kicking ME.

~Bathsheba

And Tripper, that Psycho Cat, called me a WEENIE just because I was drinking plain water at the party. I'd had an upset stomach, and I didn't want to drink anything that might make me barf at the party. My mom taught me some manners--no barfing at other people's houses.

Anyway, I was feeling way better by last night, and I was back to myself again this morning-hungry! I won't admit to foraging in the compost pile the other day, but I must say that the smell of cantaloupe drives me wild. But not like catnip wild! Who says it was that, anyway? It could have been something from a nasty neighbor's house.

Even though I was feeling perfectly well, Mom rudely put me in my PTU tonight and whisked me off to the vet in her car.

You can plainly see that I was not too happy about this trip. Mom apparently made this appointment months ago.

Here I am in the waiting room. This photo looks suspiciously like one from a blog post in January.

And here I am in the examining room being weighed. I gained about an ounce since last January. Mom measures my food so I don't have a chance to gain weight unless I check what's available around the neighborhood.

One of the next things they did was take my blood. I know that Bathsheba and Rocky always take their blood, but I had to donate some of mine. First they poked me in one leg and couldn't get enough--they said I have tiny veins--then they poked me in the other leg and got a big enough sample. I was stoic and didn't cry. I'm glad that Mom petted me the whole time instead of taking pictures.

The tech tried to get a poop sample by sticking this thing up my poop hole, but I said enough was enough and protested that indignity! Instead, they gave Mom a little plastic container for a sample. Good luck! I like to do my business in the privacy of the woods.

The doctor gave me some shots, and I didn't even flinch as Mom stroked my fur. They ran some tests, and the doc said that my thyroid levels are high (6.5 when normal is 1.5-4.5), but that I looked good otherwise. Unlike another vet that we saw before, this one said that the hair loss on my tummy was caused by stress. Mom told him that another vet said that was one of the symptoms of my hyperthyroidism, but this one said no. Sometimes Mom gets so exasperated by all the different vets' conflicting perspectives. This vet wanted to up my medication dosage, but because I had been off my meds or a day and a half, he decided he'd keep it the same and retest me in a month. Ugh--another blood donation coming up. Mom is reluctant to have my dosage increased because I became lethargic when it was upped before. She thinks I nap enough as it is.

I know that this was a lot to read, but I AM a cat and the center of the universe (at least our universe here in this house). Our 200th post contest is ongoing, everyone. Sorry, Skeezix, but July 2 was NOT it. If you manage to wade through this post, then keep those comments coming and you may win yet!

~Jake

Tabby's Tummy and Tortie's Tuesday

I know what you're thinking. Yes, I do complain that Jake is a Blog Hog. And here I have my big chance for center stage, and I turn away from the camera. Just chalk it up to my Tortitude. I don't like to be cooperative and "easy." At least you can see my tortie patterns in this photo. ~Bathsheba

In yesterday's Man Cat post, I mentioned that I sometimes lure Mom and Dad in with my tummy only to put the bitey on them. Actually, I don't always bite them. Sometimes I enjoy the petting and let them do so without incident. This way I keep the element of surprise for when I do launch a fierce attack. I keep them guessing-hehe.

Mom wanted me to point out the hairless area of my underbelly. With all due respect to Dragonheart, she doesn't want me to have a bald tummy, and she's a little worried about my compulsive cleaning. That was one of my symptoms of my hyperthyroidism when it was diagnosed last year. I have blood work scheduled for July 5, and I'm NOT looking forward to it. Still, it might show that I need a higher dose of meds.

~Jake