Because, why not? I mean, what better way to start the New Year than dealing with a cat who not only has a urinary tract infection, but also hyperthyroidism. And for at least the near future will need two different pills administered with her food. A cat who is already so picky about eating. To say that she looks disdainfully at food she doesn’t like would be an insult to the word “disdain.” An old cat, set in her ways. Stubbornness is hard-wired into her DNA.
The cat – Tea Grass – is up there in years already, and she had started losing weight. Pretty dramatically. Suddenly skin and bones. We thought she was just picky. Because she is picky. The kind of picky that says, “Hey, I’ll sooner starve to death than eat this slop you’re serving.”
And she’s not even our cat.
Only, I need to get past that. She IS our cat. Our adopted cat who is probably 15 or 16 years old, and with her fella’, Sunburst, was in need of a home when her owner passed away. We just happened to have a front porch perfect for them. And when I said, “sure, they can take up residence there,” I pictured going out each morning and pouring some food in a bowl and calling it a day. “Porch cats are fed,” I would proclaim to the world. “Normal living may resume with no impediments to enjoyment, regular routines or mental sanity. Hooray!”
Ah, that would be the life.
But that isn’t life. Not as we know it. The simple kind, with no extenuating circumstances. No nagging complications.
No, see, Tea Grass had to start getting real picky about eating and consuming lots of water and acting lethargic. Time to go to the vet kind of stuff. Because, why not finish the year with a big vet bill and who knows what kind of prognosis on an old feline who isn’t even technically mine. No … no … have to get past that …
Anyway, ever take a cat to the vet? It is one of the three worst experiences known to man. Right behind being rolled over by a flaming boulder and being dropped in boiling acid. (Oh, and a couple of kids TV shows my daughter used to watch.)
Know this: If the horrendous kitty wailing doesn’t get you … well … something else will go wrong. Like when you hear your daughter in the back seat say: “So, I’m not sure why, but it looks like there’s a lot of water at the bottom of the cat carrier. Is that normal?”
Listen, kids: Nowhere in the galaxy is it “normal” for there to be water at the bottom of an occupied kitty carrier. Cats hate water!
“Did she PEE her carrier!?!” I shouted, while trying to see in the rear view mirror, and nearly swerving into on-coming traffic. “Look in there and see!”
“Oh God!” I heard from the back seat. “It’s sloshing! It’s SLOSHING!”
Because, why not? We were on a tight schedule. Real tight! We were dropping my wife off at the eye doctor, then dropping the cat off and then picking up my nephew at a time-specific time. Like “don’t be late” time. And there was little room for cat pee or trips home to clean up a critter before a vet delivery. (But you can’t show up with a pee-drenched kitty carrier. It’s like saying you’ve given up on life and just don’t care anymore.)
Jump forward … kitty cleaned, dried and delivered … tests run … verdict: UTI and hyperthyroidism … two different pills to administer … good luck … ‘cus you’re going to need it.
“This is my life now,” I remember thinking as I stood in the waiting room staring at the pills, trying to remember which was which, and how I would get a stubborn eater to down either.
I took her home, plopped the sad kitty next to her ragged boyfriend and thought I was just about at the end of my kitty hair rope. That’s when the old man started comforting the little, ailing lady. He nuzzled her head and licked her fur, like he sensed something was wrong and she needed a little TLC. It was sweet and warmed the heart, even if it seemed to annoy Tea Grass to no end.
Couldn’t everyone use a little bit of that? A little TLC? And is there no better way to start a New Year than by helping out a little critter. Even if it meant daily pill trickery and jamming meds into clumps of salmon pate’ to get the picky one to eat. Because, why not? This is my life now. Happy New Year and all.