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Senior Kittyzen Retirement Home

Owner’s blog, kitty date 66489.51

For the most part, I write a blog with the hope that someday you’ll come across it, share some comment love, follow it. The dream: regular commenter, blog interaction. But this blog is more of a reminder or a notation of some changes occurring. Things won’t be the way they were and this is something I get sad about.

Since I had to move back to condo de backup, whose complex name is literally “Downer,” my cat hos gone thru some noticeable changes.

According to some online vets, my cat is around 81 years old “in cat years.” My best estimate is she was born in 94, I got her after she was weaned from her mother, so 18 years “people time” as of this writing.

When we first moved back, she’d sleep on the foot of my bed by my legs like always. She immediately started pooping on the comforter, leading  to an elaborate hassle of taking it to the large washing machine at the Laundromat. I could wash the other sheets in the condo’s common washer/ dryer. There was stress in moving, and my nerves and depression were escalating as the situation was setting in for me, so that’s how I wrote it off with her.

We settled in and she stopped. There are 2 rooms to the condo and I eventually moved into the other room, rearranging everything because of the new asshole neighbor with a loud a/c hillbilly rigged to his window next to my (old) bedroom window. Also the booming home surround sound for their tv that let me know they weren’t watching PBS or anything above a PG-13 mentality.

Eventually in the new room, she started pooping under the bed and for a bit I’d put boxes and laundry stacks around the bed until I realized I couldn’t do it anymore. I put a flattened cardboard box as a baby gate in my bedroom doorway. I’m now a VIP area asshole. So now, she scratches at it reliably my 3rd hour into my sleep, whatever time.

She eats canned food more because of her older teeth, sore gums. I even sprayed water on her dry food and there’s a small window she’ll eat it. Think how you eat cereal. Not too crunchy to shred the roof of your mouth, too mushy and you don’t want to eat it. Dry food is just a backup she eats at unpredictable times. For the canned food, I feed too much, she won’t finish it. I refrigerate her food after I open it, so she may not like room temperature food anymore? (I’ve gotten to refrigerate unopened cans).

I’ve done good for canned food, in that I’m a big no by-product Nazi. And I know canned cat food no matter how healthy probably is run the same or worse than human food processing, which has scared me to mostly vegetarian diet. I’ll eat meat once a day, or put a small amount of hot link in my spaghetti, jambalaya, etc. If I feed her too less can, she’ll want seconds, scratching that cardboard partition. Getting out of bed at 4:00AM is like pulling yourself out of a swimming pool. Somehow your body weighs 60 more lbs. and leg over the cardboard baby gate.

About a month ago, it looked like her rear legs started getting weaker. I didn’t know if they were sore, numbing or atrophying. I tried to walk her around a large circle with the only cat toy she’ll still perk up to, the red pen laser. She even stumbled on her litter box, so I knew shit was getting real.

And one week, she started writhing around on her back. I thought she was playing but I soon realized she was thrashing around uncontrollably. I held her, tried calming her down. She grabbed my finger with both front paws, I checked to make sure she had feeling and grasp. I held her until she stopped thrashing. Her heart was pumping hard. I don’t know if it was a heart attack, stroke or seizure. She made no kind of yelping or even drooling, I was very worried she didn’t/ couldn’t even call out.

She wasn’t very active for the week after, very understandable. I petted her a lot, but I did more so after that. She likes the side of her head and chin scratched. Her legs seemed to improve. I have bought vitamin treats since, hoping that helps.

I’m pissed at my vet because I’ve taken my cat at least 6 times, blood work costs $200 each time. He prescribed thyroid medicine that’s $30/ month that I still get. But I address my concerns and my cat’s problems every time and my vet won’t commit to saying a damn thing and it pisses me off to go home after to look symptoms on the net after I spent grocery money for him to not say anything useful or not to “take care of” my cat. He just wants blood work money. So I’m recognizing some struggles we had with my Grandfather when dealing with his doctors and him taking his medicine. I’ve gotten to a good grove in smashing her kitty meds into a tablespoon of milk.

This is my cat’s retirement and I love her more than anything. I know I could load a backpack and look for work in San Francisco or L.A. without her. But I’m committed to her for life. She’s the love of my life, even more than myself. I’ve been treating my body like the Millennium Falcon, a vehicle. I’m working on that. And when I was at my most depressed, I couldn’t continue thinking suicidal thoughts partially because I knew no one else could or would take care of my cat in her final years like I could.  know she’s a selfish cat. I know dogs have more “service to humans” capacity. Her biggest selling point was pooping and peeing in one place and her seizure has affected her habits, she doesn’t care as much anymore. Her hair’s matted from lack of grooming she used to be obsessive about.

but still, I owe my life to her, so my priority is to maintain hers. She’s still my baby girl, and will always be.

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2012/06/27 - Posted by | Single malts | , , , , , , , ,

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