No longer a radioactive cat -- post op #1

“I want to be perfectly clear, I’m not going through that again!”  

Current non-radioactive phase – “Where do I file the complaint about cruel and unusual treatment?”


TBS had her first post op exam.  She had a dose of Gabpentin the evening before and another dose a couple of hours before the appointment.  That should have made her really relaxed.  Not. 

We try to put her in the office about ½ hour before the vet arrives and normally leave her in there for about another ½ hour after they leave.  Didn’t quite work that way this time.  Once the desk chairs, waste baskets, printer, and other items started getting moved out of the office she decided nothing good was going to happen and zipped off to an unknown hiding place upstairs. 

As the appointment time drew near we feared we wouldn’t get her confined in the office in time but fortunately she came out of hiding long enough to catch and put in the now empty room.  Once the doors were closed, some mewing began followed by stronger protests.  We ignored those pitiful sounds.  

“Go away.  I’m invisible!  If I can’t see you, you can’t see me, right?”

Ready or not here they come . . .

 Long protective gloves

Vet bag

Dr. K arrived with an assistant who produced a pair of long protective gloves and a towel.  The assistant went into the office.  Silence.  A few seconds later a tremendous racket of snarls and screams ensued accompanied by many scuffling sounds.  This lasted for a couple of minutes before the assistant asked Dr. K to come in for the exam and blood draw.  Blood draw successful, urine specimen successful and exam completed.  We really wanted to know if TBS had gained weight as her pre-treatment weight was down almost a pound from what it should be but they were not able to hold her long enough to weigh her. 

The office door unexpectedly opened and TBS shot out like a cannon ball, puffed up to twice her size and growling and snorting, hissing, and making terrible meows.  She was frantically looking for anywhere to hide.  We opened the bathroom and bedroom doors to give her a choice and she slunk away into the bedroom where she can hide behind the platform bed.  

No suspicious additives, safe to eat . . .

We received the test results!  All good news—thyroid levels normal, kidneys normal, and liver levels normal.  There will be one more post op in 2 months but we will worry about that later.  She was supposed to be fasting before the blood draw but we had to give her a little food in order to get the Gabapentin down.  Nevertheless, after all the commotion was over she was more than ready to have a hearty full breakfast followed by a long nap.  It was an exhausting day for all of us.


PS  Don't know what we would do without the At Home Vet service.  They are wonderful, patient, and unflappable when faced with the likes of TBS.  Thank you Dr. K and Assistant!!  And thanks to the Feline Hyperthyroid Treatment Center & Dr. V who have given TBS what we hope will be several more years of healthy life. 

TBS may be difficult and cranky at times but she can also be sweet. We love her and are happy to have her feeling better. 

Caution: Radioactive Service Cat

"No, I do not glow in the dark.  What are you talking about?  What just happened?  Why does my box have that symbol on it?"

TBS does not have a “Service Animal” jacket and I doubt we could get it on her, nor is she really a service cat of any type unless she believes she is giving us service by sharing a house with us; however, if a Geiger Counter were to pass over her now it would click.  She does not glow in the dark and is not radioactively harmful to humans or other animals but we do have to follow some rules for a few more days.

As many know, TBS does not travel well or at all if it can be avoided.  About two years ago our usual veterinary clinic suggested it might be best if we found an at home vet service to treat her since she disturbs other patients when in the clinic and it is a traumatic event for her and us and the vets treating her.  We made the change from clinic to home service.  About a year ago she was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism.  At that time we began giving her a compounded liquid prescription in her breakfast.  We called it chicken gravy so she would not be too suspicious.  She loved the stuff and willingly ate it all up.  We were delighted.  This meant one less hassle with this far from hassle free cat. 

TBS was not exhibiting any of the symptoms associated with thyroid disease except increased appetite and occasional frantic running around the house and playing vigorously with favorite toys.  She looked and acted very healthy, was eating well and had not lost weight or muscle strength.  Many cats can stay on this medicine for years and remain healthy. But, alas, that was not the case with TBS.  The most recent blood work showed the thyroid levels still increasing despite the chicken gravy. 

The second option, which we originally rejected since it involved at least one trip into a clinic, was radiopharmaceutical treatment.  That treatment is a complete cure as the thyroid tumors are given radiated iodine to get rid of them.  Her tumors were not yet cancerous but would become so if we did not do something.  The treatment is expensive but not as expensive as having the blood work and tests every few months plus the medicine.

Now we were faced with a treating a potentially fatal condition or hospice care followed by euthanizing her at a too young age.  We decided to try the treatment not having the foggiest idea of how we were going to get her into the carrying crate and off to the treatment center.  We knew only too well what her behavior would be like. 

Bob says I was nervous for almost a month and in a near panic the three days preceding the appointment, as we still had not figured out how to trick her into the carrier.  The vet service had given us capsules of a relaxing medication to be administered in her food the night before and also a couple of hours before departure from home.  We really didn’t notice any change from the doses.  There was no pleasant drowsiness.  Plenty of prayer seemed a good idea.

 Carrier on end ready for TBS to drop on in . . .

Carrier covered in towels.  Cozy, yes?  No.

Several people, including the vet, had suggested putting the crate on end and stuffing her feet first into it preferably with a towel around her hind feet.  That is what we did and it worked surprisingly well.  TBS has the memory of an elephant and may not be able to be tricked like this again but it worked when it needed to.  We had to catch her first and stuff her in quickly, then latch the door and secure it with a bungee cord.  Much growling, hissing, snarling and yowling followed a squawk of surprise and an unsuccessful attempt at clawing a way out.  These are normal and expected noises for TBS when about to travel.  Two towels were draped over the carrier, much like covering a birdcage, to calm her.  At first plaintive mews serenaded us as we drove to the clinic soon followed by more angry and frightening sounds. 

Soon after we arrived at the clinic a nurse took her in the towel-covered crate into another room where we met with the vet, Dr. Vaughan.  Many unpleasant noises were now emanating from the crate.  The nurse was called and it was suggested that TBS be moved to an isolation room, given an anti-anxiety drug, lights out, with the towels still over the crate.  She would be completely sedated for the treatment itself and would be out for about 10 to 15 min. during which time she could be weighed and examined and administered the dose of radioactive iodine.  Dr. Vaughan likened it to the wild African animals sedated for examination and tagging.  She would have to work fast and efficiently.  Most domesticated cats do not need to be sedated for the procedures.  As soon as the radiation levels got low enough she could go home, usually a day or two after treatment.  Dr. Vaughan has treated many difficult cats and was not at all ruffled by TBS.  Inwardly I heaved a huge sigh of relief.  We were called the next morning and told that the radiation levels were down and we could pick her up that day.  I don’t suppose they really wanted to keep her any longer than necessary as she was still disgruntled when we picked her up even though she had had another anti-anxiety pill.

 The two original towels were contaminated and did not come home with us.

Note the big protective glove . . .  And there was much rattling of the cage . . .

TBS made the expected protestations in the car on the way home.  A stay of a few hours alone in the office once we got home followed by freedom and food, sniffed at before eating to make sure there were no suspicious additives, seemed to help her get back to a more normal behavior.  After two weeks she will not be setting off Geiger counters anymore but Washington State law says we must keep her litter contained for 80 to 90 days before disposing it in the garbage.  There are still two post op appointments to check on the results but those can be done by the at home service.  We hope there will be no more need for TBS to travel for a long, long time.

"That was exhausting.  I think I'll just relax here on the heated floor for a bit."

PS  More information about this treatment is available at:  www.felinehtc.com

From Alcatraz to minimum security . . .

 "I'd like to file a complaint about unlawful confinement."

The six weeks of unlawful confinement without due process has ended.  Magic Rose the cat whisperer gave us a list of instructions that included removing the two chairs and all other items except the litter box and the now slightly less suspicious and fear free safe house carrier in the guest room of the north house where TBS has been staying, here dubbed as Alcatraz.

When Rose arrived she asked for two towels.  We stayed outside the room as she entered the "cell" with one towel, shut the door and emerged a few noisy scuffling, growling, howling, and hissing moments later with TBS locked in the carrier.  Rose said all went very well, TBS only needed minimal encouragement, unfolding the towel and letting it sway a tiny bit as it was held, to persuade her to enter the safe house.  Since no other alternative existed with everything else removed it worked like a snap.  She then draped both towels over the carrier so TBS could not see out much like covering a bird cage, transported the carrier to her car and off we all went with Rose & TBS following us to the south house (hereafter referred to as the new house).  Sorry no pictures of the capture and transfer, there was just too much excitement and activity going on to take photos.

Once in the new house minimum security cell (the office), TBS was to be left to sulk on her own all the rest of the day and night.  No food or water since the night before and that should have been a clue that all was not right in the world. Once in the new/old quarters I filled her plate with favorite food and treats and closed the door.  Silence.  It was quiet until about 2 am when she began crying piteously at the door.  It was hard to do but we ignored the mews and kept to the plan, no visits until breakfast time.  Lots of howling when we first entered the room but we just went about the business of feeding her and cleaning the box then basically ignoring her.  She eventually quieted down and settled in even deigning to let us pet her a bit and sitting by my feet while I worked on the computer.  

"Is the coast clear?"

The familiar igloo and rug are now in their proper places under the desks in the office.  TBS can hide in the igloo or in back of it if she feels ill at ease.  She looks a little too large to fit inside the igloo but be not deceived she can easily fit in there and squeezes into the very back where it is almost impossible to see her.  This is going ever so much better than the trip north so far.  It looks like it may not take another 3 weeks to get her back to normal.   She can go out into other parts of the house as soon as she indicates she ready to do so.  The human servants are not totally forgiven yet but since they do provide the food and clean the box the outcome is promising.

Pay no attention to cat behind the curtain . . .

We cannot heap enough praise on Rose who is absolutely wonderful with cats, especially difficult cats like ours.  Not only did she accomplish this move with hardly any drama she offered helpful suggestions for dealing with our much loved but extremely complicated pet.  

Late bulletin, TBS has ventured out into the hallway and is exploring the rest of the house!  Free at last, free at last . . .

The miracle cat whisperer . . .

 "I know you are talking about me."

The time is drawing near to return TBS to the south house.  As mentioned earlier we have been dreading this event almost as much as she has.  And don’t kid yourself; of course she knows that there must be a return trip.  These events are never a one-way journey. 
 
After the broom under the bed chase into the carrier for the trip north, Bob said we needed to hire someone to move TBS back south and neither of us are looking forward to a repeat of the 3 week adjustment ordeal looming ahead.  A friend recommended Rose of Better Kitty as a possible solution to our return moving problems.  We called, Rose came for get-to-know-TBS visits on Tuesday and Thursday.  Next week sometime is our target move date.  Rose is amazing.  No screams, hissing, growling just mild curiosity on the first visit.  Today we were not so lucky.  Some unpleasant noises came through the door. We were advised to stay out of the room while Rose was re-establishing contact.  From the scuffling sounds, growls and howls I can only imagine what was going on behind closed doors.  But Rose emerged unconcerned and calm after a few more minutes with TBS.  

Following the first visit she instructed us to remove the small safe house table and the soft igloo hut and replace them with the thoroughly cleaned (disinfected and fear free) bottom part of the carrier that had been made into a “bed” with towels and a little pad that TBS likes to sleep on.  We did this.  A couple days later we put the top of the carrier in the room and tomorrow we will attach the top to the bottom and hope that the carrier becomes a welcome retreat and a replacement for the safe house that has mysteriously disappeared.  TBS is very smart and savvy; however, so I’m not sure we can pull this trick off.

The highly suspicious looking fear free welcome safe house crate in 2 pieces

It did not help much that we had a ferocious wind storm the night before the scheduled visit resulting in lots of tree branches and cones dropping on the roof scaring TBS to the point of trying to claw or clawless a way out of the guest room.  She did not feel up to eating because of the storm so all was not well for a whispery visit.  Nevertheless things went fairly well and Rose is confident that we can move her back south with a minimum amount of drama.  Stay tuned for the final report.
 

 

"You are saying that?  I know what that means, I looked it up."

Rub my tummy?

Rub my tummy?

Rolling on her back and exposing her fluffy tummy, TBS seems to be asking, “Rub my tummy?”  Is she nuts?  It would be like taking my life in my hands to reach down and rub her tummy the way she has been acting these past three weeks.  Even when she is more normal it is not a good idea to rub her tummy.  It is an invitation to a wrestling match with sharp cat teeth and hind claws.  Her teeth may be small but they are exceedingly sharp.  Bob has experienced that first hand as she bit through ski gloves without a problem last time we tried this moving idea.

What?  You don’t trust me?

The good news is that today I think we may have made the break through that we have been waiting for.  TBS greeted me at the door with purrs and nice mews, followed me to the feeding station, and got immediately down to eating her breakfast.  No growling while eating or glaring at me with whirling eyes.  (The growling while eating would be pretty funny if it were not so menacing sounding.)  No screams, hissing, or other unpleasant activities.  Following her meal she allowed me to pet her and even encouraged me to do so.  Amazing!  She still won’t jump up on my lap but that might be coming before too much longer. 

Bob, however, remains part of the evil dark side and gets snarls, hisses and growls when he tries to be friendly with her.  It is strange because I have all along thought that she prefers him to me even though she has known me longer.  I think this is because he has not been going and sitting with her as much as I have.  But given the improvement in her behavior I feel much more confident that she will come around in the next few days and be happy to see both of us.* 

The unfortunate part is that now that she is no longer expending so much energy screaming and trying to take us down she hovers by the door wanting to escape when it opens so she can get into the rest of the house.  Not going to happen (we hope).  It will probably be another month of confinement for her until we can move back south and offer her more freedom. 

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*More good news--this afternoon Bob tried sitting in the rocker for just a few minutes and experienced no nasty sounds or actions from TBS.  Things are definitely looking better.

The cat saga continues . . .

 What?

We are 3 weeks into the “move” and still being met with screams, growls and howls most of the time.  TBS hides behind or under the small end table and comes out with an attitude to let us know in no uncertain terms how much she dislikes her vacation accommodations.  There has been some improvement but also many days when it seems like we are slipping backwards instead of progressing forward.  

The space in back of and under this small table serves as the safe house

Because she was a foundling feral kitten, underweight and of indeterminate age but probably 8 weeks or so old, when we got her, she has peculiarities that most socialized, domesticated, tame cats do not have.  The move from the south to north houses has caused her to revert to feral behavior and it is like having to tame her all over again.  It takes a lot of patience to deal with a feral cat and there is a chance that we may not be successful.  But we continue to try.  After nine years of companionship I am very fond of her despite these lapses in civility.

Several days ago we moved a rocking chair into the room so that one of us could sit with her.  This activity was not met with enthusiasm on her part but was tolerated about as well as anything else.  Ears flattened, hissing, and some lunging forward with bared teeth ensued.  After I sat in the chair for about an hour she came over and rubbed against my feet then turned, hissed, and whacked me with her paws then ended with a toothy nip.  Since she no longer has front claws* and she didn’t bite hard this was just a showing of disgruntlement not a fierce attack, as I had first feared it would turn out to be.  She can be absolutely terrifying when in full attack mode.

What now?

She has to be confined to the one room since there are just too many places in the rest of the north house where she could hide and given her current nastiness it would prove difficult to impossible to manage.  Unfortunately there have been some unexpected delays in the south house construction so she will have to stay at the north house longer than originally hoped or anticipated.  In the late evenings she cries at the door to be let out but we dare not do it.  

 

Yesterday was a big day.  She quieted down and sat on the small rug by the rocking chair.  She even purred and played with toys that we had brought in.   After a little more than an hour she came over and sniffed my hand, licked my fingers, and let me pet her before she lashed out with paw strikes and hisses.  This is the first time in the three weeks that either of us has been able to get close enough to touch her at all.  This morning she is back to screaming at us but there is some hope on the horizon.


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*Note:  Vets do not normally recommend nor approve of claw removal in cats.  As a result we didn't do it when she was a kitten.  About 4 years ago we had her claws removed because she is poly-dactyl and has 13 toes on her front feet.  She could not retract some of her many claws so they were continually poking into the pads of her feet.  She would not willingly let anyone touch her feet to cut the claws and she was in pain every time she took a step.  It took trapping her in the bathroom, a net to catch her, a sedated blanket to wrap her in and a very fast vet with a helper to clip her claws.  The claw removal in her case was recommended by a vet.  Now she hates all vets.

On the road again . . .

Sweet memories of better days

The long awaited and dreaded day arrived on Tuesday of this week.  The Bride of Satan put on her traveling shoes with many protestations, howls, yowls, hisses, snorts and snarls. 

 The infamous crate of doom & terror

The once welcome feeding station (carrying crate) morphed into the cage of ill destiny even though it had been liberally sprayed with Feliway to aid in a calm and easy transition.  Not.  TBS had to be forcibly persuaded with a broom to vacate the safe dark space under the bed for the bars and confinement of the crate.  An inauspicious beginning.

 I see you

No soft music but high volume moans and howls serenaded us as we proceeded the 8 miles from the south house to the north house.  Locked in the guest room of the north house she resorted to a 2-day hunger strike accompanied by many loud sounds every time the door was opened to see how she was doing.  Soft words of encouragement and loving concern by the humans met with more snarls, snorts and screams.  She spurns the soft brown igloo house that she has been using at the south house as a retreat during noisy construction phases. The tiny space behind a small end table has to suffice for the safe house.  Cat advisers (friends and vets) have told us it may take two weeks or more for her to calm down.  Great!  Just in time to move her back to the south house.

 Don't talk to me about it

She will remain confined to the guest room for the duration of the stay.  Lights out at 10 pm.  How we will transport her back to the south house once the painting and floor refinishing are completed is a mystery.  As of this moment we are considering hiring the at home vet service to do the job for us (no matter what the cost).  

The Bride of Satan travels

 

Bob and I both have houses; they are about 8 miles apart from each other.  Once we got married we started playing musical houses, i.e., a few days at his place then a few days at my place.  Sounds simple, right?  Wrong.  As many of you know I have a beautiful longhaired black cat nicknamed The Bride of Satan.  When we stay at Bob’s house it means getting up earlier than usual and traveling the distance between the houses to feed the cat.  I don’t think she minds much being alone but food is an essential part of her life and perhaps she would even eat all day if allowed to do so.  The obvious solution was to take her with us as we go back and forth.

The week prior to this trial run we purchased a second litter box and scoop, another case of her food, some new dishes, and made sure we had a good supply of her old towels so she would have some familiar scents in the new place.  Long ago I discovered that she really didn’t like riding in the car since the only place she ever went was the vet.  Her aversion to travel was understandable.  At D’s suggestion I started feeding her in the carrying crate and she did seem to think of it mostly in pleasant terms.   The door to the crate needs to be held open by two small bungee cords.  Once those were removed the door swung ominously instead of being firmly in the open position.  The afternoon meal appeared in the crate as usual but the door was swinging, squeaking a bit and spooking her.  A quick shove by me, and presto she was inside, the door locked shut behind her.  She is not dumb and the realization that all was not as it should be was more or less instantaneous.  A surprised and unhappy protestation howl and frantic shuffling inside the crate ensued.

The crate now had an actively moving cat inside on the way down the stairs to the car.  The decibel level of protests increased.  The mild startled complaints took on a sorrowful moan then an angry yowl.  I only wish I could have recorded all the sounds.  We were much too busy to take any photos from that point onward.

Once at Bob’s house the crate was opened and she shot out only to slink back in confusion at the new unfamiliar surroundings.  Apparently these were not to her liking in the least.  After two forays into the strange kitchen she retreated back to the laundry/pantry area where we had set up the litter box and feeding station.  Hiding behind the crate next to the water heater she began really howling, yowling, spitting, and growling.  Thank goodness she no longer has any front claws.  We patiently waited thinking she would start to explore and all would be well.  It did not happen.  After about 3 hours it was time to transit back to my house. 

A matador dance with swinging towels instead of capes, a terrified feline, more unbelievable noises—caterwalling?—some really heavy garden gloves got punctured and left Bob with a couple of bloody fingers.  Heavier leather ski gloves were next.  A towel quickly dropped over cat, she was bodily thrust into the crate with frantic fumbling to secure the latch.  Bob is brave but his level of dexterity was hampered by the thick gloves and now bandaged fingers.  I wasn’t about to get anywhere near the cat or the crate.  Now the crate had an extremely angry and frightened cat inside.  Back to the car, drive the 8 miles, haul the crate up the stairs into the house.  No food since morning.  Very angry, hungry cat no longer terrified but terrifying in her rage and indignity.  Screamed, hissed, yowled, and growled at us every time she saw us.  Tried to prevent us from entering or exiting rooms in the house.  This is the next day.  I finally got her to eat something (no food since the previous morning prior to the unsatisfactory adventure).  She is still very angry and disgruntled.  Low muttering growls can be heard every so often.  I am currently ignoring her and pretending all is well.  Perhaps by tomorrow evening she will be willing to tolerate us.  I don’t think forgiveness is on the menu.

The Bride of Satan has canceled all future travel plans for the time being.

The unsuccessful journey comes to an end.  The bungee cord is securing the locked crate door.  We are not taking any chances.

Note the heavy gloves . . .