Kelly has been on the kitty Prozac for nearly four weeks. The first couple of weeks he was such a zombie that it worried me. After that, he seemed to return somewhat to normal, but I noticed he was having trouble in the catbox. It was taking him forever and a lot of effort to poop. I gave him some doses of Lactulose. It seemed to help somewhat, but not enough. It wasn’t constipation, it was some other kind of issue.
Which is why Kelly had a last-minute trip to the vet yesterday. The vet couldn’t find any kind of obvious problem except for one oddity – Kelly’s anal glands were excessively full. So off he went into the back for some lucky tech to empty Kelly’s anal glands. That is not a job I would wish on anyone.
Kelly came back with a cleanly-washed butt scented with “Cherry Blossoms”, per the vet. We had a laugh about that and the name of the other butt-cleaning scent that is offered: Sugar Cookies. Somewhere in some pet products corporation, someone is having a laugh at people with cats.
The vet strongly agreed with my suggestion that we cut Kelly’s dose in half. Kelly had his first reduced dose this morning. He’s already hissing at Tilly again. Sigh...we’ll see how it goes.
A large chunk of yesterday was also spent texting with a neighbor, N., who is the granddaughter of the woman that considers Charlie her cat. Unfortunately, Charlie showed up with an injured leg a couple of days ago and his supposed person was doing nothing about it, so N. stepped up to take action. She texted me because many months ago I used a gofundme to raise money to neuter neighborhood cats. I offered to have N.’s own two cats fixed, but nothing came of it. The money has been sitting in my savings account ever since while I debated what to do with it.
She texted me to ask if I would be willing to use that money to get medical help for Charlie. We’re talking about a single mother with a couple of toddlers and a seriously sick grandmother, who is nonetheless taking responsibility for Charlie. Of course, I said yes. I contacted the vet’s office to make sure they understood that I’ve be covering a specific chunk of the bill.
N. was afraid Charlie had a broken or dislocated leg. He was in a lot of pain. It turned out that he was probably bitten by another cat and it got badly infected. If N. hadn’t gotten Charlie to the vet when she did, he might well have died from it.
I suspect that Charlie once again got into a fight with Obie. Obie showed up a few days ago with some bits of fur pulled out and a small nick on his left ear. He seems to lead with his left ear when he fights. His left ear is battle-ragged.
The vet is keeping Charlie another night because the poor cat is in such bad pain, which makes me suspect the infection remains serious.
I asked Charlie’s person (the grandmother) more than once to try and keep Charlie inside, but she won’t do it. Maybe this will change her mind, though I doubt it. People that won’t take proper care of the cats they claim as theirs shouldn’t be allowed to have them.
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