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

Hospital Visit

Hello, it's me, Jake, and I am in the hospital. I have an IV in my leg for fluids. I know that Skeezix would disagree, but I don't think that pink is a good color for this ManCat. Mom came to visit me tonight and that made me so happy that I purred and purred. I am feeling a little better since the staff gave me some fluids and administered meds. I even ate some of the crunchy bits and used the litter box.


I have to stay here overnight? Mom, do you really have to go? I hate being sick. I wanna go home.















Thank you all for your good wishes. They mean a lot.

Friday evening update: I am home and I feel MUCH better! Thank you for your positive thoughts.

I Don't Feel Good

I don't know what's wrong, but I just don't feel like eating. Mom worries because this is SO out of character for me. I haven't been feeling very good for a couple of weeks. None of my foods appeal much to me. I still like Temptations so Mom decided to feed my regular crunchy food to me by hand and I liked that--I just didn't eat very much. Mom also came home to some barf today--undigested, of course.

Mom took me to the vet one evening last week and he couldn't find anything wrong with my vitals. He decided to treat me for gastritis and he gave Mom this awful liquid stuff (Cimetidine) to give me twice a day. I put up a fight so most of the stuff just got on my fur; Mom decided to stop forcing it on me two days ago. She worried because I didn't even clean it off my fur. Well, it tastes icky; why would I want my tongue to wipe it?

Today I did something that I'm sorry about: I bit Mom hard on her index finger. She was on her third try to force the thyroid pill Tapazole down my throat when I let out a cry and then bit her. We both cried. She said that her finger still throbs and it's her mouse clicking finger. She was glad that a document she was supposed to sign today at work had a typo because the finger started bleeding again (under the bandage) and she got blood on the paper.

Anyway, back to me. I have an appointment for my regular blood work for my hyperthyroidism on January 10. I don't know if I'll stand for my medicine any more. I used to let Mom put pill pieces in my Fancy Feast and I would eat them just fine. Then I got tired of FF. I liked the pill pockets for a while and now I like them even better because I've discovered how to eat the yummy treat and leave the pill behind! I used to be cooperative (for a kitty!) when she would put the pill down my throat, but no more Mr. Nice Kitty from me.


Oh, what to do? Mom doesn't know whether she should take me back to the vet tomorrow or just give me love and attention. At least she is taking tomorrow off! I slept close to her on the bed last night and that is something I didn't use to do. (I didn't know what I was missing!) She is nice and warm.

Well, if anyone can give us advice on what I should do or what might be wrong with me, please leave us some comments. It sucks feeling sick.

~Jake

Update from Bathsheba, 12:30 p.m., Dec. 18:

Jake is in the hospital.

Well, of course, Mom took Jake back to the vet. Jake's vitals, like his temperature, were all normal, but he lost a pound of weight. They did blood work and all that was abnormal was some kind of amylase levels. He could have pancreatitis or something worse that begins with a C. He will stay in the hospital for some fluids and medication. The vet will call Mom later today with an update. Even I want my pesky brother to feel better.

Flower Friday for Mom

Mom's been kinda down in the dumps lately and we thought that we'd better help cheer her up with flowers for Friday. Here is the Virginia State insect, the tiger swallowtail, extracting nectar from one of our butterfly bushes.

Mom had what she thought was a minor fender bender on Wednesday night. Unfortunately, it caused her car's radiator to crack so it leaks when the engine is running. This happened to her old beloved 91 Camry for which she had dropped all collision coverage. She has another old car, a Buick, that Grandpa (her dad) bought shortly before he died ten years ago. When she went to use that car, the battery was dead because she doesn't drive it very often. She knows she needs to buy a new car, but she hates the hassle, and no car out there really "grabs" her. She could get the Camry fixed, but she knows it's time to move on. She's a rather practical person and doesn't really want or need all the expensive bells and whistles that cars come with these days. And she's so disappointed in the gas mileage of most cars out there. Maybe she should go with a Prius, but even it comes with so many extras.

Then there's grandma. She's now under hospice care in a nursing home, and continues to deteriorate. It makes Mom sad.

Then there's the termites. When Dad took down his big picture over the mantel as he was preparing to move, they discovered termite damage. After getting some estimates from exterminators, Mom had the house treated for termites today. She's using the bait method. The technician told her to wait a month or two before she has the drywall and mantel repaired or replaced.

And, of course, she misses Dad as we do. She plans to visit him in California for a week starting August 13 so we won't get to blog then. She's worried about Grandma during that time, but the hospice nurse urged her to stick with her plans.

Back to Flower Friday, Mom tried to catch Mr. Swallowtail with his wings fully opened, but she could not get him to cooperate with her inexpensive camera.

Here's a native plant, cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis) that Mom put in a pot for the deck. It had seeded itself outside the flower bed and Mom wanted to rescue it from the path of the lawnmower. This flower is a great nectar source for hummingbirds.

I did give Mom some good news today. I had blood work done at the vet's (I was a good boy unlike some sister who shall remain nameless), and my thyroid level is 4.0. "Normal" is 1.5 to 4.5. That means that my medication dosage (1/2 a pill with each meal) does not need to be increased. Hooray! More meds would probably make me lethargic.

I told Mom that if things go really bad, she can run and hide like I do. She replied that you can't hide from problems because they will still find you.

~Jake

Tortitude Tuesday: I Have Three Stars for a Reason

It started out with a trick. I thought that Mom was going to feed me my dinner, but instead she snatched me up and rudely shoved me into the PTU.


It was time for my annual vet visit. I was NOT HAPPY, but I didn't yowl TOO much during the 10-minute car ride. Now Tripper accused me of being "dainty" when I balanced on the birdbath, but I don't think that's an adjective that many people would use to describe me when they see me at the vet's. I have three stars on my file so they know to watch out for me. I think that you get one star for hissing, two stars for growling and maybe scratching, but you get THREE stars only if you bite and DRAW BLOOD. I lived up to my reputation today.


To begin, I cooperated a little so they would let down their guard. The tech lady weighed me, and I will admit that I am getting a little "voluptuous," Tripper's synonym for "porker." I weigh 11 pounds now, and the vet was actually happy about that. She thinks it's good for senior kitties like me to have a little extra rather than be losing weight. I didn't tell her about those Temptations that Mom feeds me now that I've become a blogging cat and learned about such great treats.
Anyway, after I was weighed, they left Mom and me alone in the examining room. Mom got out her camera, but I foiled her shot.


I went under the corner seat. Mom tried to reach for me to put me back on the table, but I was very cross and bit her! She deserved it for putting me through this torture.

The vet lady came in, and I scooted under the examining table in a small cabinet that housed a refrigerator. They tried to take the refrigerator out, but it was too tight. After donning the gauntlets, the young tech tried to pull me out from that space, but I would have nothing of it. I growled and hissed to show my grave displeasure.

Unfortunately, they would not leave me along. She tried another tactic and was able to reach me from the adjoining sink cabinet. I cursed and said all of the words from Skeezix's bad word list, but to no avail.

They plopped me back on the table and I got a shot. At least they didn't dare take my temperature! The vet told Mom that I was probably a good candidate for a vet that makes house calls. Oh, that might be fun. There are lots of places to hide at home!

Here are two shots of the marks on Mom's hand. You can see a total of only three bite marks because I'm missing one of my lower fangs. She says that the wounds still smart. Next time she might don the gauntlets.

So, Tripper, do you still think I'm dainty? For a guy who asked me to join his harem a while back, you sure don't know how to sweet talk a girl. I'd bite you hard if you ever tried to bunny kick me.

~Bathsheba

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