cat storm

Cat meltdown today. That's what I get for crossing the "cat lady" line, going from two cats to three. Kylie went to the vet today for dental work, which we've put off as being unaffordable for a few years. After her illness last year-- when she lost one third of her body weight and we had to give her subcutaneous fluid and hand feed her three times a day for two weeks-- we took her to the vet right away when we noticed her spine protruding more than usual. The bloodwork came out normal, and since we have a bit more money this year we decided to go for the dental work, on the theory that her worse-than-normally-rank-cat-breath and gingivitis were causing her pain that made her not want to eat.

Erik dropped her off at the vet this morning and would pick her up after work, since cats need total anesthetizing for dental work. The vet called me a couple of hours later to tell me that Kylie had diarrhea and couldn't be anesthetized today. She also thought Kylie might have inflammatory bowel disease, a chronic gastro-intestinal ailment, and that we'd need to have her "scoped." Kylie was fine at home this morning, and she always loses bowel control at the vet. I decided to proceed with the dental work.

About half an hour later-- time I spent imagining my beloved, terrified Kylie in gastro-distress in a cage at the vet, or perhaps out cold on a stainless steel table with her little spotted mouth prised open with icy metal instruments-- the doctor called again, this time to tell me that Kylie has an intestinal parasite. When I mentioned our new kitten, she said that he was the probable culprit. She said they'd treat Kylie for the parasite, and that we'd have to bring the other cats in. So it will be two weeks of treating three cats for an intestinal parasite, and then we can take Kylie back in for dental work.

And so it goes.