My current fur-faced baby, Rocky cat, has been thinning out lately. One of the cats I grew up with tipped the scales at 20 pounds, so I like ’em thick. Rocky has never been huge, but recently he’s just fur and bone. He hasn’t changed his eating or pooping habits, so I didn’t think much of it, but I finally took him to the vet today. He hates getting into the carrier. That was our first hurdle.
At the vet, he got good marks for his teeth and his rub down. They took some blood and a urine sample, both of which I should hear about next week. I have to collect a stool sample for him (fun) and bring it in. They said he may need an ultrasound of his tummy if nothing comes up in the various tests just to see what’s going on. We were cleared to go while we “wait and see” if anything is wrong or if he’s just getting old (he’s nearly 12).
On the way home, I walked a different route taking in some Brooklyn scenery. It was more suburban than I’m used to, and I was enjoying the front porches and how the morning sun was burning off the storms that had moved through earlier. I had the carrier on my right shoulder and my right hand stuck through a small unzipped portion so I could pet Rocky to calm him down. He mewed a bit, but I told him we were on our way home.
I don’t know if it was a plant I walked by or the fact that I am a spaz and don’t breathe right, but all of a sudden I was coughing like I had cotton in my throat. I couldn’t get any air. I was just around the corner from my apartment, and I have an inhaler (presumably for allergies, but I’m not totally sure why the doctor prescribed it). I kept walking and coughing. Rocky didn’t protest the odd movements because I kept my hand on him. Once home, I let him out, kept coughing, began sneezing, and started itching all over. I got some water, the inhaler, and some Benadryl. Once I got myself together, I got Rocky a treat.
That’s when I noticed his entire hind half was wet. The vet said he had two patches on his hind legs that would be damp from the alcohol swabs to draw blood. But his tail and legs were soaking wet. I picked him up and sniffed. Yep. He had peed all over himself in the carrier. Which is fabric, not plastic. I hadn’t noticed because I was too busy having a weird allergy attack. I inspected the carrier and it’s trashed. That’s when the Benadryl started to hit, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I put the carrier in the bath tub, tried unsuccessfully to wipe Rocky dry, and passed out on the couch.
I woke up to find that the unmistakable odor of cat piss had permeated the bathroom door and spread throughout the apartment. I decided I’d try to clean Rocky a little more thoroughly, but before I found him, I slipped. On two piles of cat puke. Which also has a less-than-pleasing stench. I prioritized the puke because I didn’t want to slip again and land on my ass. My earlier allergy attack had cleared my nostrils so I got the full bouquet of barf as I cleaned it. Next it was on to the carrier. It’s not salvageable. Somehow, though, it has invaded the entire apartment. Rocky has NEVER peed outside of his litter box. Ever. I don’t have a lot of carpet to soak up the undying smell even if he did, but it’s new for me to be assaulted by the stink of cat piss. Fabreeze-scented garbage bags and “twilight woods” candles to the rescue.
Now I have to trick Rocky into letting me clean his hind half so the dried piss doesn’t cling to his fur. I’m not sure if you know about cats and water – they don’t mix. Needless to say, I’m not having a great day. It’ll be even worse if something IS wrong with him because I hate to put him through the ordeal of going back to the vet or, worse, having to force medicine down his throat.