Incoherent Scribblings

After filling my head with my usual melodramatic expectations of everything that could possibly be wrong with Mouse last night, it’s no surprise that I slept like shit. I am not sure if it is my “maternal instinct” or what, but I was waking up every hour or so just to check on her and make sure that she was OK.

It snowed all night and at about 6:00 am this morning a snow plow went through the parking lot below our balcony. Normally, I can sleep through this sort of racket, but since I was tossing and turning anyway, the snow plow was the last straw: I was awake for the day. Now anyone that knows me knows that this is a highly unusual occurrence, but I made the most of it by doing some knitting before the vet’s office opened at 9:00.

I woke A. up at 9:00 am on the dot and had him call the vet for an appointment ASAP. (I don’t like telephones very much to start with and I absolutely hate using them when I have to talk in German!) By 9:30 we were in the vet’s office waiting for Mouse to be examined.

I like our veterinarian very much. Mouse, on the other hand, does not. In fact, after we took her to the vet in May for her annual check-up she hijacked this blog and lodged a formal letter of complaint!

Today however, Mouse was somewhat lethargic and as a result much more cooperative than usual… though she still managed to greet the vet with a hiss. As the vet pulled out her leather gloves, she explained to the wide-eyed assistant that bitch was an understatement to describe my sweet little seven pound hairball.

As the exam began it was obvious to all involved that Mouse wasn’t feeling well: In complete contrast to the exam in May, she huddled close to me and allowed the vet to take her temperature, look into her eyes and mouth, and even get close enough to listen to her breathing. She didn’t have a fever, her eyes were clear, and her mouth was free of ulcers, but her breathing was a bit labored.

My fears were laid to rest when the vet declared that instead of the dreaded Rhinotracheitis, Mouse simply had a cold.

A cold?! I know a lot about cats, but it never even crossed my mind that she could have something as simple as a common cold! Well, since the virus that causes a cat cold and one that causes a human cold are not the same, it isn’t actually a “common” cold, but the duration is comparable and the same treatments apply: Lots of fluids, lots of sleep, and no sleeping on a cold floor.

Cats with colds do have one advantage over humans though: They can get a shot of something that helps to strengthen the immune system so they can fight the virus more efficiently. Too bad the drug isn’t approved for human use: I could have really used it last week when I was in bed sneezing my own way through a cold!

I think I have a sick kitty.

Mouse has been sneezing like a banshee for the last couple of days and we are starting to get worried. At first she just sneezed a couple of times in a row half a dozen times over the period of two or three days and A. and I joked it was because she got cat hair up her nose.

However, today she has been sneezing repeatedly and when she does it is multiple times in a row. In addition to that, if I put my ear close to her and listen I think her breathing is a bit labored. I am a bit concerned that it could be Rhinotracheitis , but she is an indoor cat and her vaccinations are updated, so I am not really sure if that is a realistic possibility.

Nevertheless, since she is also 13 years old, I think a call to the vet first thing in the morning is in order.

Hello, Mouse here. I believe on occasion my human servant (aka blondelibrarian) has written about me. Contrary to what she might think, I am the boss of the household and today I have finally decided to take control of the laptop so that I may lodge an official notice of protest concerning the injustice inflicted upon me today.

I am a healthy feline. I may only weigh seven pounds on a “fat” day, be approaching 13 years, and, because I am long-haired, occasionally regurgitate a hairball, but that by no means gives my servant (she calls herself my “Mama,” but she is nothing more than a servant to me) the right to pack me up into that glorified purse and take me to see that evil woman that smells like 100 other animals and pokes me with sharp objects. Since I am not ill, I do not believe under any circumstances that these visits to that voodoo doctor benefit me in any way, shape, or form.

I was immediately suspicious this morning when my pillow (I believe my human servant refers to him as “husband”… whatever that means!) brought that traveling contraption into the living room. That contraption can only mean two things: We are going to visit that nasty woman that my pillow refers to as “mother” or we are going to see the voodoo doctor. Either way, it puts me in a bad mood.

Because I assumed we were going to be doing one of these things which I do not like, I decided I might as well start out by being contrary. The places that I can find to hide and fit my fuzzy body into are amazing! I was snickering under my breath as I heard my servant cursing me while she rushed around the apartment looking for me. Apparently we were running late and I was making things difficult. Heh! Things were going according to plan…

Unfortunately for me, my servant is much bigger than I am, more intelligent than I give her credit for, and not afraid of me or my attitude. Along with the riff-raff (aka Scooter and Harley) I was packed up into the glorified purse and put into the belly of that metallic beast. A short while later we stopped and I immediately knew we were at the voodoo doctor’s.

When my servant removed me from the bag, placed me on that cold metallic table, and the voodoo doctor approached me, I let out my most fearsome growl. The voodoo doctor chuckled at me, called me “Kampfkatze,” and told her assistant the story of last spring when I smacked her so hard with my declawed front paw that I left a bruise.

I felt that I was being patronized and since the assistant looked young and naïve I decided to give them all a dose of my attitude. I began to roar like a tiger, smacked them a bit, and even tried to bite.

My servant would have none of that though and I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was trying to be authoritative. I sunk my back claws into her arm and tried to get away, but she had me by the scruff of my neck. By this time the evil voodoo doctor had looked into my eyes and ears and was getting ready to take my temperature. As soon as she lifted my tail, I lost control. I knew what was going to happen next and so I leaped from the table and even sunk my teeth into my servant’s arm. I typically don’t do that, but they weren’t putting that thermometer where “the sun don’t shine!” What an insult to my dignity! Hmmph!

Then, to add insult to injury, they tried to wrap me in a towel. Ha ha! I was too slippery for them though and got away. However, by then the voodoo doctor and my servant had reached the limits of their patience. The evil doctor came after me with a fishing net! Once I was in there I couldn’t get away. And so while I continued to growl and hiss at the injustice of being netted like fish, they poked me with one of those sharp objects that makes your skin burn. With one final hiss I was dumped back into the traveling contraption and was made to wait while the other riff-raff was subjected to the same exploitation.

I think I had sufficiently frightened Harley (that ‘fraidy cat!) because she wasn’t very cooperative with the voodoo doctor either. But oh, how I hate that damned Scooter! He was good and the voodoo doctor was cooing over what a sweet natured boy he was. Bah!

Oh well, I got my revenge. I threw up a hairball on my servant’s lap on the way home.

Well, we went back to the vet this evening so she could have a second look at Scooter’s leg. While he is still limping a little bit and we are supposed to continue to try and keep him from jumping up and down for the next few days, he is much better. The doc gave him another vitamin B12 (or B6?) shot, but all in all he is going to be OK. Whew! I am SO relieved!

Some people have “Dog Days.” Well, not me. I have “Cat Days,” and today was one of them!

First of all, when we woke up this morning, we noticed that Scooter was limping… BAD. Now, Scooter is not exactly the most graceful of cats and we did hear a big crash last night about the time we went to bed, so I put two and two together and came to the conclusion he probably fell or something. I poked around his leg a little bit and he didn’t really have any reaction until I tried to straighten his elbow. He then started meowing. It wasn’t a meow like he was in excruciating pain, but obviously it was uncomfortable.

Well, I decided I would give him a little while in case he was faking it. I know it sounds silly, but one time when he tripped over something while running around, he started limping. Of course I made a huge fuss and I swear it got worse! I then ignored the situation for an hour or so, and he stopped. So, this morning, I took a shower and went about my business for about an hour, but he still kept limping.

So, we whisked him off to the vet. Turns out he damaged a nerve and currently has no feeling from his elbow down. Even though we heard this crash last night, what exactly he did is a mystery. The vet gave him a Cortisone and B12 shot and we are supposed to put an infrared light on his leg for about 10 minutes several times a day and he goes back for a check up Tuesday. I hope he gets better soon… my poor baby!

Meanwhile, we are supposed to keep him from jumping up and down on things. Have you ever tried to hinder a cat from jumping? It is damn near impossible!

After all of that was over, I tried to cross stitch so I could finish up my “Siamese Kitty.” I have done better French Knots and I think all in all the backstitching took me about three hours, but I was interrupted so many times I am not exactly sure. However, after 5 years, “Siamese Kitty” is finally finished!