Category: Lucy

lucy update

whbeebe1 Comment


It’s been a week since I last wrote about Lucy’s health. She shows good signs of thriving. I’m cautiously optimistic that she may pull completely out of her current state of ill health and be a normal cat yet again, at least for a while longer. Whether that’s measured in months or years is unknown at this time. All of her troubles have given me a crash course about cats, especially their health and biology. It’s a tough way to learn more than just how to feed and water your animal…

She’s been the beneficiary of some top-notch veterinary science through my local vet (Williamsburg Veterinary Clinic), which is appropriate given how she’s the official ASL Cat Mascot. First that science kept her alive and got her through the worst part of this whole episode. Lucy’s to the point where she’s now reacting to me like she normally did, following me around and giving me meows modulated with her motorboat purrs. She’s not back up to eating full meals in one sitting (she’s almost free-feeding, eating a bit, then resting, then eating more), and that worries me, but I have the following (possible) diagnoses from the vet as to why this may be and what’s really going on.

  1. Cardiomegaly with no no evidence of congestive heart failure, and
  2. Cat pancreatitis (ran some panels and waiting for full results).

Based on what I’ve read the pancreatitis makes the most sense and can cause a lot of other problems in cats, including heart (#1 above). She showed the symptoms for #2, and I have to believe this is the problem. Pancreatitis in humans is bad enough, causing great abdominal pain and killing the appetite, but for a little cat it has got to be even worse. I’ve been giving her foods that are pure, or nearly pure, protein, such as the Goya mackerel and Purina’s Beyond Wild Salmon Recipe which is grain free. The problem with the Goya is it’s packed in brine, but I can wash off the excess salt before giving it to her. The key right now for feeding is no carbs, very little fat, just mostly protein. I’m in the process of following up on a suggestion by one of the tech vets to feed her roasted chicken. This is just pure chicken that’s been roasted with the fat cooked out a bit.

So far she’s been pulling through like a trouper. Since getting back home a week ago she’s back to exploring the house. She’s cleaning herself, leaping about her cat tree, scratching on her cat tree posts, and doing all the typical cat-isms you’d expect from a normal healthy cat. Today she was following me around like the old times, talking to me up a storm. She’d follow me to some spot where I’d be working, then sit somewhere nearby while I did some sort of chore. I’d move on and she’d be my little shadow. She’s been leaping up in my lap when I sit, and batting at my hands playfully. It’s the old Lucy that I haven’t seen since December. I didn’t realize how much she’d changed over that short period, and how much I dearly missed that part of her personality.

The problem with owning a pet for many of us is we love it when they’re healthy, but don’t know squat what to do when they become greatly ill. Having a pet is like being married, or having children. You’re committed to them in sickness and health, for better or worse… And so I take care of her needs when she’s ill, just like I’d take care of my wife and my children. As long as I’m able, anyone in my household will always be under my unconditional protection, even the little four-footers.

lucy

whbeebe

I thought that by today I might have good news about Lucy the ASL Cat. She came home from the vet’s this past Monday and as usual refused to eat. So I stopped by a local Publix grocery on the way home from work and picked up a can of Goya brand mackerel. Once in a food dish she tore into it like she was famished (and point of fact she was). She ate a large helping at every meal until yesterday, when she started to slide back into lethargy and not eating.

So Judy took her back to the vet’s this afternoon. And while she was there Lucy had another throwing-up session, except this time it was clear with a little bile in it. All the fish she’d eaten was apparently farther down her GI tract.

I drove straight from the office after leaving work a bit early to the vet’s. I met my wife there and then with Lucy, and finally the vet. While my wife and I were alone in the visitation room waiting for the vet, Lucy was brought back in to us. At first she was quiet, but then she began to move around the room, checking things out. She seemed to rally quite a bit and was soon walking and jumped up on the bench, moving from one end of the room to the other, and even rolling over playfully on the floor. She was her regular kittenish self (she’s always been the most playful of the three cats).

While she was active I took a number of photos and posted them on my Flickr stream. I intended to post them here, but instead I picked these two photos of Lucy to show her at her best. They were taken by me as soon as I got home from our wedding anniversary cruise back in September 2014. I’ll always have all the photos of Lucy, and I’ll cherish them all. My only regret is that I never seemed to have taken enough of her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t remember all the other little Lucy incidents and stories.

You can see just how cute and playful she could be in the second photo. And for whatever reason, the light coming into the room that day seemed to fill the air around her with a glowing energy. Almost angelic.

Lucy was always claiming any box or bag on the floor as her own. She’d jump in and roll around to make some noise, then poke her head out to see if I was paying attention. Then she’d give me those big round cat eyes for a moment and then shoot out like she was jet propelled. None of the other cats would do that except Lucy. And every time she did it I’d laugh. I think that’s what she wanted to hear, my laughter.

I may very well be heading into the ultimate end state for Lucy, where I have to put her to sleep. I want to give her every chance to come out of this and live with us a few more years. She rallied well today and so I gave permission to the vet to have her scoped next Monday just to see what might be wrong and if it’s fixable. But I have to be prepared for the worst. Animals don’t live forever, any more than humans do.

I never thought I’d be this attached to a cat the way I’m attached to Lucy. I have no idea how old she really is. She became our third household cat in 2008 during a very hot August. Our next door neighbors had left for a vacation and asked if I’d feed and water two strays that had appeared on their doorstep. One of them was Lucy. So every morning and evening I’d go over with food and water for both. I wasn’t trying to be sneaky, and Lucy wasn’t dumb, so she started to follow me back to my house. I started to feed and water her at my front door. Then one day, not long after she started to follow me home, I opened the front door and stared down at Lucy. She stared back up, gave me a perfunctory meow, and walked in the front door to live with us.

And here, I believe, lies a small problem with how I relate to Lucy. In spite of her kittenish behaviors and her thin body when she first arrived, Lucy may be a lot older than I think. She was already fixed and had a flea collar on her. My theory about Lucy is that she was left behind with one of the many houses in my neighborhood that got hit with foreclosure. When the owners left one of the houses behind, they left Lucy as well. Lucy could very well be a senior cat; I just don’t know. Regardless she’s had seven wonderful years in this household, and I’ve been blessed with seven wonderful years of her presence.

Once in the front door I gave her another dish of water and some of the cat food we fed our other two cats. And that started a seven year love affair between a cat and a human. Lucy really did love me. She’d come up in my lap, no matter where I sat, and purr like a motorboat. I’d give her rubs and she’d purr even louder. After a time she’d leave, check out the house (we laughingly called her out guard cat) and come back for another rub session.

As our “relationship” progressed she’d meet me at the garage door when I’d come home. At night, when it was proper time for bed, she’d come get me, purring all the while, and herd me back to bed. Then she’d jump up on top of me, walk up my chest, then drop down sphinx-like to stare into my face. That was my cue to give her more head and ear rubs. Finally I’d gently move her off, turn off the bedside lamp, and slowly go to sleep. Lucy would curl up beside me and go to sleep herself. In the morning my personal purring alarm clock would wake me, and the day would start anew.

The house is empty right now and lonely without her, in spite of having my wife, the two Labs, and the other cats with me. Lucy was my cat and she loved me with a fierceness I’ve only seen in one other animal, my long-since deceased black Lab Katie. And I have to now admit, I love that little cat back just a fiercely.

I didn’t realize until I started to write this post just what period in my life Lucy was around for. 2008, the year Lucy arrived, was the year I changed jobs for the company that would eventually lay me off in 2013. It was the same year my wife had to have her artificial knee replaced with a second operation because they’d botched the first operation. 2011 was the year I blew out my left knee and the start of a year of constant and increasing pain. 2012 was the year I got my left knee partially replaced, and 2013 was the year I was laid off. And Lucy was there to witness it all, and a lot more. When I had my knee surgery Lucy was my constant companion while I was down and out on my back. Lucy was especially attentive as only a cat can be. When I started to travel for weeks at a time, loyal Lucy was always there to greet me to give me ankle rubs and purr a hearty welcome. Only Ruby the Lab was as attentive (and she still is).

I’m going to show this last photo, because it’s of Lucy in the vet’s office. She’d walked over to me and settled on my left leg, just like old times. I lost it badly at that point, and I’m still losing it when I see this photo. My wife took it for me.

And for those who think I live under a rock, I’m aware of Leonard Nimoy’s passing. A child of the 60’s, I was fortunate to see The Original Series when it was first broadcast. I was mesmerized by the Vulcan as well as the series. To drive home Vulcan superiority, here’s a photo of Spock with a cat. This is a scene from the last episode of season 2, “Assignment: Earth.” It was the last TOS series I remember before the horrible third season started with “Spock’s Brain.” After “Spock’s Brain” I never watched another episode of TOS until it hit re-runs. I’ll always have the first two seasons, especially episodes like this one. With a Cat.