It’s Fall and the weather has been much better! I am already making plans to get outdoors and take some pictures soon!
I haven’t been writing on my blog as much as I should be, and I guess you could say I’m kind of backed up right now. I went on vacation recently and haven’t written about that. I also have a lot to say about a bag of old film I never developed from about 11 to 12 years ago.￼￼ I should’ve started writing about that along time ago and now I have too much to say, got to make time for that.
￼My birthday is also in a couple days and I really don’t have any plans, but I do have a lot to say about where I am in life now.
My cat had surgery on the 18th. It went very well. He wasn’t himself afterward, as expected, due to the anesthesia and everything. It still stressed me out to see his spirits low and lethargic. Not much of an appetite. He had to wear two cones because he has a long neck. A soft fabric cone and a standard plastic one. The plastic one was so long that I feared he couldn’t possibly reach the food in his dishes. He would try to eat and give up. I decided to take off the plastic cone if I could be in the room with him so he could eat and relax, then put the cone back on when I leave.
Day by day, he started acting normal again, took his medicine with ease. This felt a little easier for both of us. The doctor told me they tested the tumor tissue and he is cured, which is great news! He would just have to keep the cones on and stay away from his tail until his vet visit on April 1st, which is this coming Monday. He didn’t seem interested in his tail at all. He was just enjoying the extra attention and spoiling. He took all his medicine and was healing great! It really felt nice to see his personality come back, even with a little extra!
But today something went wrong. I took the plastic cone off so he could eat before I left for work. I was in a rush and forgot to put the cone back on before I went to work. I came home and discovered he pulled at his stitches! I tried to take a picture to take a long look at it because he keeps moving around. There was a little dried blood and the stitches are obviously pulled. I don’t think he opened the wound, and really hope the bleeding was from the moving of the stitches.
I was really upset, disappointed that I forgot the plastic cone. If his tail gets infected or healing takes longer, I will have let him down. I keep checking it and it looks like the blood as dried and healing has resumed, but let’s see what the vet says Monday.
Needless to say, the plastic cone isn’t coming off anymore. He will have to wear both cones until Mondays visit.
Well it turns out my little guy likely has a basal cell carcinoma tumor and it will have to be removed. They will probably take a few inches off his tail, but at least it seems it was caught early. I want him to have a long and healthy life, so I will do what I have to do.
I was able to give him the sedative but I could tell he wasn’t happy with it. When I took him back to the vet, it was a different doctor. It was actually the same nice doctor that euthanized Isis. I learned that she is the main doctor there! She was actually pretty amazing with Cootie! They had to sedate him further, but he was able to be examined and he’s a healthy cat, despite his age, and aside from that tumor on his tail.
He was groggy when I brought him back home and also the whole next day, but has been fine since then. His surgery is in like a week and I will feel bad when I have to sedate him and watch him go through the healing process. And he will lose a part of his beautiful tail. 😦
Just yesterday, I noticed my cat, Cooter, has a lump on his tail. I was petting him, one long stroke from his head all the way down to the tip of his tail, wrapping his hand around his tail all the way down. I usually wrap my fingers around his tail gently, but for some reason, this time I squeezed it just enough to feel the bones in his tail. He is a striped cat, and near the third stripe from the tip, I felt a lump on the right side. Not a pimple sized lump, but a small lump that is under his skin.
I automatically got stressed. The first thing I began to fear is cancer. I lost my cat, Isis, on December 22nd, 2016. She had a lump on her ankle in 2015 and it grew. They said it was cancer and she got the leg amputated. A year later, she had more lumps in different areas and it was too late. I took her in to send her to Rainbow Bridge once I saw the beginning of her quality of life to degrade because I refused to let her know a worse level of pain. It was a horrible decision to make.
I have been meaning to write a memorial section on my site for her, and I will get around to it soon.
Anyhow, I immediately called the vet and they suggested I come in, made an appointment for today. I dread bringing my cat into the vet. He has a history of bladder crystals and he’s been blocked maybe about four or five times. I have to give him medicated food. Last time I took him to the vet was when he had an episode in 2014. Every time he goes to the vet, he acts like he’s 100% sure he’s going to be completely tortured. He gets violent when the staff tries to touch him. I have seen them break out with long gloves and a net, I’ve seen them get a little rough with him. I’ve been asked to place him in a plexiglass box to they can knock him out long enough to examine him.
Cootie is going to be 15 years old next month. He doesn’t need the stress of being roughed up by vet staff. Stress also triggers bladder crystals for him, so I hate seeing him stressed out. And using gas to knock him out is a risk for his heart. So of course I don’t take him to the vet unless I really need to. And a finding a lump means I need to.
I brought him into today and the vet assistant was asking questions. He was already growling so we let him stay in his carrier until the doctor came in. The assistant said when a lump is on the tail, it’s usually an abscess or cancer. I hated to know how high the odds for cancer are. After asking questions, she left and returned with the doctor sooner after. She was an older woman who quickly appeared to be scared of my cat. They brought a few towels in and tried to handle him, but he wasn’t about to let it happen. She quickly said she thinks it’s best she prescribes some Gabapentin to give him and help him calm down before I bring him back again. I told her I have tried to give him pills in the past and he refuses. I told her it would work best if she can make the medicine into a liquid compound that I squirt into his mouth and I would much rather pay for that. She called the prescription in and I am supposed to give it to him before I bring him back next Friday.
I tried to put the lid back on his carrier and he was hissing and swatting at me from inside his carrier. It was so frustrating and heartbreaking knowing my cat needs medical care but he just can’t handle visiting the vet. How will I ever get him the medical care he needs? I hope the sedative works and they can examine him next Friday. I need to know that the lump is NOT cancer.
Of course when he got back home, he was completely normal again.
I have a 14 year old cat named Cooter. He has his own room where he can be crotchety and skittish in peace. I go in the room and spend time with him, but he normally hangs out near the window and watches what’s going on outside. That window faces the side of the neighbors house where she grows a bunch of plants, including nice flowers. He comes out of the room sometimes, but in short spurts. He spend most of his years not being around dogs, so I figured he would feel uncomfortable being forced to be around my boyfriends three dogs. He has two Boston Terriers named Frankie and Delilah.
Frankie is 10 and has long face flaps. He looks like he should be wearing a top hat with a monocle. Or maybe a dog version of an old heavyset man in a blues band. Most of the time he moves around slowly, begs for food, and snorts and farts a lot. Delilah is 8 and missing a few screws. Her breath smells like a dumpster. You can usually find her laying around, licking the couch, snorting and farting, and making her rounds in the house to steal from all the other dogs food dishes.
The third dog is Woody. He is some sort of weird chihuahua mix. My boyfriend inherited Woody from his Dad. He doesn’t know exactly how old Woody is, but he is pretty much blind in one eye, almost deaf, and is missing most of his teeth. His breath stunk badly because his teeth were decaying, and eventually he would yelp when he tried to eat kibble. My boyfriend paid to get most of his teeth pulled and that fixed his breath, but now his tongue is almost always hanging out. Sometimes it feels all dry like an earth worm that’s been sitting out in the sun. Woody has also lost his ability to jump on the bed. One can only guess he has doggie arthritis now. He sometimes likes to get away with peeing in the house, so extra measures must be taken to prevent that from happening.
This picture was taken on a day where Cooter came out of the room and all dogs were in the living room. How they all happened to be perfectly spaced out and looking at the camera is both a mystery and a miracle. Plus, Cooter was meowing. And yes, the coffee table is a mess.