pet connection

Thank goodness for enzymatic cleansers and hardwood floors. There’s more than one reason I was reluctant to see Bella start taking a diuretic. Not only did it mean her heart condition was progressing, it also meant she’d be peeing more–a lot more.

Until pretty recently, Bella was the dog with the cast-iron bladder. So I think it has probably been an adjustment for both of us. I knew what to expect and have been pretty good about taking her out every three or four hours, but I had a memory lapse last night. She should have gone out before they ate or, since that didn’t happen, immediately afterward, but I got busy cleaning up the kitchen. I turned around to put the dog food up and stepped into a puddle in front of the refrigerator. Good thing I was wearing my Keen’s, which can be hosed off or run through the wash. I’m even happier that I wasn’t barefoot.

Luckily, she doesn’t have any problem sleeping through the night. But there won’t be any more sleepy 6:30 a.m. directives: “Not yet, girls, just a few more minutes.” Once Bella starts stirring, we’re all gonna be outta there.

Experience is a brutal teacher, but she’s damned effective.

I’ve been watching and worrying about Bella for the past few weeks. She seemed to be coughing a little more–one of the signs that mitral valve disease is progressing. I checked her respiratory rate Tuesday morning and it was at about 45 breaths per minute. It’s not good for it to be above 35 bpm. She was already scheduled to see her cardiologist on Thursday, but I called to ask if I should bring her in sooner. I didn’t want a repeat of the situation with Darcy, who went into congestive heart failure unexpectedly because I didn’t recognize the signs soon enough. She suggested instead giving Bella a little furosemide (lasix) to see if that helped. It did.

When we went in for the exam, x-rays showed that Bella’s heart was a little bit bigger than it was in May (and that she had a rock in her stomach, but that’s the least of my worries). She was just on the cusp of having fluid in her lungs. Adding lasix, a diuretic, to her other two medications should help stave that off for a while. “You caught it really early,” Dr. Barrett said. “I’m not worried about her, and there’s still a lot we can do for her.”

You’d never know she was sick by looking at her. Old, yes, with her gray eyebrows and muzzle. But she’s first out the door when there’s a chance to go out, plays with Harper until she starts coughing, then tries to play some more, and has the appetite of a truck driver. After I loaded her in the car to go home, she made a break for the front seat and dived into the bag holding my Zankou’s chicken. She’s crazy. I don’t share that with anybody.

The typical Cavalier lifespan is 10 to 12 years. I keep reminding myself that she’s already a year and a half beyond that. So right now we’re aiming for 14 and then I’m resetting the goal to 15.

Go Bella, go!

I wonder if my neighbors would notice that their kitten is missing? I’ve been getting my cat fix this weekend taking care of LB (Little Bit). He’s a little gray and white adolescent who would make a fabulous playmate for Harper. He runs through his tunnel and loves to chase the toys I throw for him. I tried to explain that he was supposed to bring them back for me to throw again, but he ignored me for some reason. Maybe Harper could demonstrate, or at least show him how funny it is to run past me with the ball and jump up onto the sofa with it instead of doing a direct retrieve.

It has been six years since my last two cats died of old age. I never thought I would go this long without a cat, but three dogs keep me and my checkbook pretty busy. And I have lots of friends and neighbors who are allergic to cats. Of course, that’s not necessarily a drawback. Having a cat would cut down on the amount of entertaining I would have to do since those people would avoid my house. And most of them are better cooks/hosts than I am anyway. Hmm.

But, no, I think the timing is not quite right yet. I’m going to stick to my tried and true method of cat acquisition: when it’s time for me to have one, the right one will come along. Or it will be when I remodel my office and turn it into the perfect cat room, thanks to its high ceilings and pot shelf. Whichever comes first.

I check my Gmail account about once a month, usually right around the time my column comes out (a look at no-kill shelters this month), mainly to see how much hate mail there is and if there are any reader questions I can answer without writing a whole nother article. This month, though, I had a couple of fun e-mails waiting for me. The first was from some former neighbors, who had seen an article I wrote for Cat Fancy and sent an update about their doings. Their Lab, Phoebe, is getting on in years, but still hanging in there. They didn’t know about Darcy and of course have never met Harper. We’re hoping to get together for dinner soon and catch up.

But the really fun e-mail was from Larry’s breeder. She had seen my column on poisonous plants. “When I saw in your bio that you still have Larry Bird, my heart melted,” she wrote. In the many years since I’d last seen her, she had sold her California home–at the top of the market!–and moved to Iowa with a bunch of birds and her four dogs. The dogs were old at the time of the move and have died, but now she’s living with a Sheltie who makes sure she gets plenty of exercise every day.

“It was hard for me to accept that I need an ‘old lady’ dog, but Jesse is just perfect. We walk miles most days, but right now we have very hot, humid weather so I’m trying to get him to chill a bit.”

I never thought of Shelties as “old lady” dogs, quite the contrary, but based on what she was like 20 years ago, I’m sure that Charlene is not the typical old lady. I imagine that a Sheltie is just about the right speed for someone with her energy level. I’ll have to find a photo of Larry to send her.

Right now, I’m thinking about feline communication and training skills. Is your cat a genius, evil or otherwise? If you have stories about things your cat has trained you to do or ways he communicates with you, please write me at Kim.Thornton@gmail.com. I promise to check for responses before another month goes by…

As you may recall, I had a little technical difficulty with my laptop the afternoon of the first day, and the second day Christie and I rebelled at carrying around our heavy laptops, so all my notes after that first session were done with a chisel and stone tab, er, pen and notebook. I’ll do my best to reconstruct what was said, but quite a bit will be paraphrasing. And I can best be described as obsessive when it comes to spelling things correctly, so it’s v. diff. 4 me 2 abbr. things. It’s not in my nature.

The afternoon session, Rehabilitating and Adopting Cats, was part of the Sheltering Track. Christie attended it, too, so maybe she’ll jump in with other observations. Presenters were Susan Cosby; Joan Miller, vice president of the Cat Fanciers Association and president of the National Council on Pet Population Study and Policy; and four shelter cats. Cosby began the session by talking about what cats in shelters need and deserve.

Cats deserve care, comfort, safety. Cats need access to dry food at all times, wet food at least once a day, and clean, fresh water at all times. They need comfort, in the form of blankets and cushions. Cats need quiet time, places to perch and hide, and safety from seeing other animals or hearing scary noises.

Most cats arrive at the shelter healthy. Stress and disease transmission cause them to become sick. Cats that aren’t stressed are more resistant to disease, have a better chance of full protection from vaccines, and are more likely to be adopted and live a better life. So stress reduction is paramount. (more…)