Thus Spake Russ

Posted By Russ Emerson on November 21, 2010 at 12:33 pm

This past week has been a week chock full of… well, nothing but a to-do with a fuzzy troublemaker, really.

All three of the cats had just had their semiannual checkups, and all three came through pretty well.

Then on Monday, I noticed that one of the cats had been trying to barf, though nothing but stomach acid had been left on the kitchen floor. I was pretty certain it wasn’t Mycah — she hadn’t been downstairs for a few days due to her arthritic elbow — but I couldn’t tell for sure which of the boys it was until I caught him at it.

More spots appeared on the floors, but whenever I made it to where I’d heard a cat being sick, both Kismet and Packet were there, looking at me like I was a nut for suspecting one of them. Finally, though, I caught Kismet trying to hurl… which wasn’t so hard to do, since he was trying it about three feet from the office chair in which I was sitting.

He was trying to barf, like he was trying to bring up a hairball, but nothing solid was coming up. It was about 9pm, so I called my vet’s office to leave a message with my intent to bring the lad in for a look in the morning; the vet herself called back less than a minute after I’d hung up.

[We really do have the best vet imaginable: Dr. Hodge of the Cat Clinic of Cary. For anyone reading this from western Wake County, I can’t recommend her highly enough.]

I was thinking he’d eaten something that disagreed with him, but during our vet visit on Tuesday an x-ray showed what might possibly have been an obstruction. Kismet got a vitamin shot and subcutaneous fluids (he’d been neither eating not drinking) and we went home with a return visit scheduled for the next day. The x-ray machine had been acting up, and the results were a bit too dark to be sure about what was visible, so the lad would be having an ultrasound examination.

On Wednesday I tried to convince Kismet that he was going to a day spa for a haircut and massage, but he wasn’t having any of it. He cried all the way to the vet’s office.

Based on his symptoms and on what the ultrasound showed, the vet diagnosed pancreatitis, so I’m guessing he had been trying to upchuck his own pancreas. He was medicated and then I bundled him over to the cat hospital for an overnight stay, where he was fitted with a Cone of Shame and an IV to keep him hydrated.

By the end of the next day, Thursday, he still hadn’t eaten, so another overnight stay was in the cards.

Friday, though, he seemed to be doing better. Not eating, but it seemed like his energy levels were up to normal, and his mood was pretty good, all things considered. I picked him up at the end of the day. You never saw a cat more glad to be home; among other reasons, his two days away was the longest he and Packet had ever been separated since they were only weeks old.

Kismet was mostly his happy playful self.

[video_lightbox_youtube video_id=QuHhyafej8g width=800 height=630 anchor=”The POP UP version.”]

But only mostly. He was drinking, but he hadn’t eaten more than a few kibbles by mid-day Saturday. He had clearly lost weight, as well. I phoned the vet to give her a status report as she had requested, whereupon she prescribed an appetite stimulant. It took a bit of work to get the pill into the cat, as you might expect.

You should have seen Kismet wolfing down his supper.

He also ate a bug. I ordinarily might have guessed that you’d have to have your appetite really seriously stimulated to do that, but he’s done it before.

He seems to be almost back to normal, other than making up the weight he’s lost. I’ll be keeping an especially sharp eye on him.

Categories: Animals, Video
Tags: Kismet