Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Losing Pagan





Today, I had to say goodbye to one of my best friends. My cat Pagan had been sick with urinary tract problems for a while now. When he first started struggling to pee, we took him to the vets. They gave us some medicine to help calm him and told us to give him only wet cat food. It worked at first. He seemed to get better.

But about a week after the medicine ran out, Pagan started struggling to pee again, only this time, it was worse. He couldn't pee at all, and he kept straining and trying to do so. It was obvious he was in a great deal of pain. So we took him back to the vet's. This time, it was more serious. He needed to be admitted for treatment. I was quoted an £800 bill. He could die overnight without the treatment. But then they wouldn't start treating him until my husband and I qualified for a £1,000 loan through them, because we didn't have the money to pay right away. Several hours later, we were finally approved for the loan and they started treating Pagan.

We got to bring him home a few days after that. We were told that his urine was now clear and he was having no trouble peeing. The vet gave us some pain medicine for him. But by the very next day, he appeared to be straining to pee again. I rushed him back to the vet's. They said he might have an infection from when the catheter had been in. I was given more pain meds for him, more medications to keep him calm and some antibiotics for the possible infection. And he was sent home again.

I asked for the final bill, but they told us, ominously, that they were still calculating it. He had an appointment to come back the following day.

The next day was Sunday. Again, I was told that, despite the bit of straining he was doing when he tried to pee, the fact that he was peeing a little and that his bladder didn't feel overly full, meant he was still recovering. I told them that the first pain medication they had sent him home with was almost gone, and the vet said she'd get him some more because it was important that he take it. They were out of stock but would get some in on Monday and call me to come get it.

On Monday, the only call I got from the vet was them telling me that the final bill needed to be signed and that the final amount was £972.60. Pagan seemed okay for most of the day. He'd peed at night and some during the day. He was cuddling with me, "chatting" with me, lying on his back for tummy scratches and acting normal. But by early in the evening, he started straining to pee. He was only getting a few drops out. I gave him the pain medicine already on hand an hour earlier than normal, called the vet about the missing pain med and then went to pick it up. They informed me that they had forgotten to add the medicine to his final bill and that it was another £25.60 that would be added in. When I got home, Pagan was resting, not straining any more. He seemed slightly better.

The stress was killing me. I love Pagan so much, and seeing him suffer and worrying about whether he was going to get through this was sapping all of the light from my days. I was faithfully giving him his medicine (which he hated) at the right times, keeping the other cats away from him and keeping his food separate from them too (as some of his medicine was put into his food). Why hadn't everything we'd done for him helped?

He was still getting drops of pee out, and he had the missing pain medicine added to his schedule of medications, so we waited overnight to see if he improved much more. In the morning, as I got the kids ready for school, I noticed Pagan straining in the litter box a bit again. The school run takes me two buses, a long walk and a total of just over two hours. I gave Pagan all of his morning medicines and then left to take the kids to school, praying that when I got home, he would have peed.

When I got home, I found him huddled behind the couch, growling when I tried to pet his head. Through tears, I called the vet, who wanted me to take him straight in. I called my daughter and her husband for a lift to the vet's and took Pagan back to the vet's.

The vet told me that he was in a lot of pain, which I could already see for myself. His bladder was bloated and solid. She told me it was idiosyncratic, meaning they didn't know why it kept returning. She said it would keep happening. She tried a last ditch effort of using a needle to remove some of the urine causing the pressure in his bladder. He struggled through it and still strained and couldn't pee. Then he vomited.

Our option was to watch him die slowly, suffering, or to have him put to sleep. I, very unhappily, chose to have him put to sleep. She brought him back in to me, and his body was twitching with the pain he was experiencing. But when she injected the fluids that would put him to sleep, he relaxed into my arms and started purring.

I help him long after the purring stopped.

I love you, Pagan.

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Friendliest Cat Breeds?


According to a report by the Daily Mail, there was a recent study done to find out which cats are the friendliest. The Sphynx came out at the top of the list as the most friendly. Then it was determined that pure bred cats are more friendly than domestic shorthairs. The most friendly of the pedigree cats came out as Maine Coons, Persians, Birmans, Somalis, Siamese and Russian Blues. (I always read that Ragdolls were wonderfully social and cuddly cats, so I'm curious how they didn't make it into the top seven. Non-pedigree cats scored lowest for their interactions with humans, being the most likely to ignore their owners and run away from strangers.


According to the Daily Mail article, the phrase "non-pedigree cats" is the same as the phrase "domestic short-hair." I have a non-pedigree cat and although he looks exactly like a Black Smoke Maine Coon, and we were told that he is part Russian Blue, he's still a non-pedigree, mixed breed, domestic cat. He is not, however, short-haired. So where does that leave him on their study?


And as for non-pedigree cats not being affectionate, I am left wondering just exactly who they asked. Although the study states that a variety of people were asked the questions, from all different family sizes and situations, it still doesn't explain to me how they could end up with the idea that non-pedigree cats are somehow less affectionate than pure bred cats. I have never owned a cat that wasn't affectionate. With the exception of one pedigree cat, a tabby Manx KC (short for Kitty Cat), all of my cats have been of mixed parentage. They've all loved to cuddle in my lap, greet me with head butts and rubbing against me, and followed me around the house. Caspian, my tabby cat, was the cat most likely to give me affectionate head butts, and Pagan is my most vocal cat, following me around "talking" to me with meows most of the time. Talisman, another short-haired tabby, was queen of the nose-kisses, and Gambit (a long-haired mixed cat with tuxedo coloring) was the most likely to cuddle in my lap. Kacie, a short-haired black cat I used to own, loved to lap sit and would dive for both of my hands to make sure that they were both constantly stroking her, and Jynx, my daughter's cat, a short-haired tortoiseshell, loves to rub against me. (I often have to keep myself from tripping over her.) Rambo, a long-haired domestic cat who adopted my family years ago, used to leap into the air in order to be able to head butt my hands and get me to pet him, and he, like Pagan, "talked" to me often and followed me around. Bibsy, my first ever cat, a long-haired tuxedo, loved sitting in our laps. Even my neighbor's cat Lola, a domestic short-haired calico, runs up to greet me when I step outside and constantly demands that she be pet and cuddled.


The study was done in France, so I am left to wonder if French non-pedigree cats are really that different from American and British ones. I have no idea how anyone could think non-pedigree cats aren't just as friendly as the pedigree breeds.


What has your experience been with  the cats in your life?

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Jynx The Kitten Playing On The Stairs

Jynx, at around 7 months old, is still very playful. She especially likes hiding behind things before attacking.



Saturday, 1 January 2011

Happy New Year 2011!

Pagan was in a playful mood today. I think he just wanted to wish everyone a happy new year!

Pagan playful 1st Jan 2011


Pagan 1st Jan 2011


Friday, 24 December 2010

Merry Christmas!

Here's to hoping your Christmas is full of magic and love and laughter, and of course, lots of kitty cuddles too!

Christmas Kitty 2010


Christmas Kitty 2010 1


This video is a bit dark and I didn't hold the camcorder very steady, but you can still get an idea from it what our beloved cat Pagan has been like with our Christmas tree and the ornaments on it.




Sunday, 12 December 2010

The Legend Of The Tabby Cat

Caspian1


The stable was quiet as the creatures gathered around the manger. The lamb, the donkey, the cat, the mice, and the doves watched as Mary softly sang lullabies to her baby. But Baby Jesus whimpered restlessly. Swiftly the tabby cat leapt into the manger and began to purr with a deep soothing hum. Baby Jesus snuggled into a comforting sleep. In gratitude to the tabby cat, Mary marked an M on the tabby’s forehead. Ever after, tabby cats are marked with the Madonna’s M in memory of this love for the Baby Jesus.

~author unknown

Saturday, 4 December 2010

Hobbes & Kittn

submitted by A. B. Sue

Hobbes was always a cautious cat, not nervous, but never rushing into anything. Kitn, on the other hand, was forever dashing into everything new. When I brought home a large paper bag one day, I thought they might like to play with it, as our cats always had when I was a child. I set the bag on the floor, lying on its side with its square bottom holding it in position so that it looked like a little cave. Hobbes saw it first. With his typical caution, he approached slowly, sniffing and looking his way up to the bag's mouth. Just as he put his head in, Kitn came running into the kitchen and jumped on the closed end of the bag. The bag collapsed with a crinkle of paper and a whoosh of air. Hobbes ran from the room, terrified Kitn following, their feet scrabbling madly on the linoleum. The dog barked and tried to chase them, her feet also slipping on the floor. I fell on the floor laughing. That brief minute of pandemonium convinced all of my pets to avoid paper bags. Kitn, however, loved plastic grocery bags. She liked to stick her head through the handles and then run around with the bag popping and slapping behind her. I think the noise was pleasing to her, but it sure startled some of my guests.