Writing Halted by Sick Kitty

This has been a week. It’s actually been a couple of weeks. Our oldest kitty, Molly, has been sick. She’s 18 and rather frail. She has inflammatory bowel disease and about a week and a half ago, was bleeding. Either her colon or her kidneys were giving out on her.

Our grandma cat, Molly

Our grandma cat, Molly

We spent a week with anti-inflammatory meds, the vet assuming it was her inflammatory bowel acting up. They wanted to do blood tests and X-rays, but would have had to give her an anesthetic. If her kidneys weren’t functioning properly and couldn’t process the anesthetic, it could kill her. We opted to not do the tests.

The next week, she was still not eating much and had lost a pound. For those of you familiar with cats, losing a pound in a week is a big deal. This time Molly was subdued enough that the vet thought she could get a blood sample and X-ray without having to medicate her. We did the tests.

Of course, according to the tests, Molly is healthier than I am.

Having now ruled out a bunch of other illnesses, the vet has settled on either Molly’s inflammatory bowel acting up or a gastrointestinal cancer that doesn’t show up on X-rays. The treatment is the same for both conditions.

Now we have a kitty taking cherry flavored liquid steroids. Molly isn’t appreciating the cherry flavor, however, and attempts to spit it back out as fast as we squirt it in the back of her throat.

During all of this, she’s been in Jack’s post surgery kennel because the meds have given her diarrhea. Once she randomly peed on the carpet and she’s been getting everything all over herself. She’s already had one bath, an activity she is NOT in love with. I’ve spent a fair amount of the last week washing cat bedding. We are doing what we can to encourage her to eat – canned cat food, human baby food and Chicken of the Sea tuna have all found their way into Molly’s food dish.

Of course, the other cats would kill each other to have baby food for dinner and they hover like sharks. They walk around Molly, edging ever closer, chasing each other away. Ralphie will get as close to Molly as he can and look at me like, “I’m not touching her.” When he thinks I’m not looking, he sticks his paw in Molly’s bowl and pulls it away from her. While I’m distracting Ralphie, Ozzy comes around the other side and starts eating from the bowl. I shoo him away and Jack is there. And on and on it goes.

I started feeding Molly inside the kennel. We have the floor of the kennel covered with puppy training pads to make cleaning up accidents easier. Ralphie has figured out that if he hooks a claw in the pad and pulls, he can pull the bowl to the side of the kennel to scoop food out with his paw. Meanwhile, his dry food is being vacuum-inhaled by Emma who is on a vet prescribed weight loss diet.

Trying to diffuse a household full of treacherous feline behavior, I haven’t written a word in two weeks.

And this Wednesday, my husband has shoulder surgery, so…..

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