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maybe some peace ...
Sep. 27th, 2011 03:06 pmSylvester's behavior seems to have improved dramatically in the last week and a half. I love my pets, and I wouldn't have it done myself - but I sort of, kinda, maybe halfway understand those people who have their older cats euthanized because they won't stop peeing on everything in sight after a while. It sounds stupid and something easily cleaned up, but the problem is, while I don't have much of a life, I DO have enough of an existence that there are things I need to be doing besides following around a 14-year-old cat to make sure he doesn't piss - on the carpet, on the hardwood, on the wall, on a door, on my bed, on my clothes, on a rug, on the shower curtain, on the furniture. (Yes - he's wet in all these places. MULTIPLE times. It sounds humorous, unless you're living in the middle of it and your home smells like urine despite immediate cleanups.)
He was not this truculent before I adopted Frank a few years ago, and I realize having two adult unrelated male cats in one house is like striking a match - but I had Frank neutered, I fed them in separate rooms (still do), I gave Sylvester special treats, maintained two litterboxes, I tried other behavior modifications, I tried Feliway and other cat-calming spray. Nothing, in over three years, seems to have calmed his absolute fucking rage - hence me using this icon, as it reminds me much of his demeanor toward me - and in reference to up above, it's not so much the cleaning up that was breaking me down, it was this anger he was almost constantly exhibiting to the point of my hair being torn out. (I tried at a few separate times, giving Sylvester tranquilizer his old vet had prescribed - well, it wasn't a pill, it was powder you sprinkle in the wet food. He KNOWS when there's something in his food that shouldn't be there, and trying to get him to eat it was like rolling a boulder up a mountain.)
In addition, he wasn't satisfied with just peeing on my things. He would either do it in front of me, wait in the spot until I showed up, and then do it before I could stop/get to him, or do it in a place he knew I'd easily find it - and when I went around the corner to look for him, there he'd be waiting, ears flattened back, and he'd take off running like he'd just set fire to a Halloween bag of shit on the doorstep. Well, he did it for the last time on an early Saturday morning a couple of weekends ago. I cleaned up the mess, stomped into the bathroom to take a shower, bundled the damn cat into his carrier, and was sitting at the clinic shortly after it opened at 9.
The vet gave me some pills for him (don't ask me the name; it's an antidepressant, but not Prozac - she said we'd try these first), which I had to cut in half and feed him twice a day. What I didn't like about them for the first few days was they did the same thing to him the tranquilizer powder had, namely, render him loopy and zombie-like (I want him to have a personality, just not ALL THAT FUCKING RAGE). They also tested his blood again (cha-ching$) and found overzealous thyroid levels this time, so I had to have more blood sent off to a specialty lab to have it checked more closely there (cha-ching$$) - then they wanted to do some further test, I guess to pinpoint the exact gene upon which sits this hyperthyroid problem (cha-ching$$$$$). I nixed the last test - I am not paying for more tests for my cat's thyroid than my doctor orders for mine. I bought some medication to inhibit his thyroid function so he'll hopefully gain back that 2-3 pounds he's lost in the last few months. I also asked if I could scale back his antidepressants to once a day.
So far, the mixture of the two meds once a night seems to be working some minor wonders. He doesn't run around angrily anymore; I haven't caught him pissing anywhere yet. (I did add another litterbox, making room by moving something else elsewhere to do it, and have started scooping once a day rather than every couple of days.) He doesn't twitch his tail as much and seems less intent on clawing everyone (though he does still fight with Frank, who hasn't figured out to stop provoking him at this point). My sister commented a couple of nights ago, "He acts like he used to when he was younger" - i.e., in Sisterspeak, "like less of an asshole."
I dislike hoping too much after only a week and a half, but it'd be nice to not have to sit with him of a morning, again, and be able to possibly use that time once again for walking exercise instead, without worrying if he's back home pissing on something.
BONUS RANT: I love my two pets. I don't always like them some days because they're like the worst parts of teenagers, but I love them. I make sure they have regular vet care, a warm place to sleep, places to play, toys, a steady supply of expensive, high-meat food, and water. I know that having pets is a responsibility and costs some money. HOWEVER ... I am getting well and truly sick and tired of vets' attitudes anymore that $40 for a blood test, for example, "isn't that much" and this sort of pulsing, underlying, mostly-unvoiced vibe of "if you REALLY loved your pet and were a responsible adult, you'd pay whatever it takes to get them well." Um, no. No, I would not. Sorry - not because a pet isn't worth that kind of care, but because I personally do not earn "whatever it takes." I spent several years taking Sylvester to the vet for annual checkups, occasional illnesses, and, in one memorable two-month time period, exams every other day and all kinds of tests to figure out why he was throwing up and wouldn't eat or drink. (It turned out he was a little anemic. REALLY??) This was during the years I had no health insurance of my own and never went to the doctor because it was too expensive ... but the cat, I made sure he had medical care.
And, I might not be so very annoyed if an average annual checkup vet visit alone - complete with shots - didn't run $200-$300 these days. And there is NO waiving of that fucking "office exam" fee anywhere if you go in with an emergency and are paying for other expensive services at the same time. (You may say "well, that's life," but the vet I had to take Sylvester to over that two-month period, like every 2-3 days, would waive his fee sometimes or do a procedure for half-price here and there because he knew it was putting me in debt and the cat really needed help. So, no, it's an individual vet's choice, not inevitable "life.")
He was not this truculent before I adopted Frank a few years ago, and I realize having two adult unrelated male cats in one house is like striking a match - but I had Frank neutered, I fed them in separate rooms (still do), I gave Sylvester special treats, maintained two litterboxes, I tried other behavior modifications, I tried Feliway and other cat-calming spray. Nothing, in over three years, seems to have calmed his absolute fucking rage - hence me using this icon, as it reminds me much of his demeanor toward me - and in reference to up above, it's not so much the cleaning up that was breaking me down, it was this anger he was almost constantly exhibiting to the point of my hair being torn out. (I tried at a few separate times, giving Sylvester tranquilizer his old vet had prescribed - well, it wasn't a pill, it was powder you sprinkle in the wet food. He KNOWS when there's something in his food that shouldn't be there, and trying to get him to eat it was like rolling a boulder up a mountain.)
In addition, he wasn't satisfied with just peeing on my things. He would either do it in front of me, wait in the spot until I showed up, and then do it before I could stop/get to him, or do it in a place he knew I'd easily find it - and when I went around the corner to look for him, there he'd be waiting, ears flattened back, and he'd take off running like he'd just set fire to a Halloween bag of shit on the doorstep. Well, he did it for the last time on an early Saturday morning a couple of weekends ago. I cleaned up the mess, stomped into the bathroom to take a shower, bundled the damn cat into his carrier, and was sitting at the clinic shortly after it opened at 9.
The vet gave me some pills for him (don't ask me the name; it's an antidepressant, but not Prozac - she said we'd try these first), which I had to cut in half and feed him twice a day. What I didn't like about them for the first few days was they did the same thing to him the tranquilizer powder had, namely, render him loopy and zombie-like (I want him to have a personality, just not ALL THAT FUCKING RAGE). They also tested his blood again (cha-ching$) and found overzealous thyroid levels this time, so I had to have more blood sent off to a specialty lab to have it checked more closely there (cha-ching$$) - then they wanted to do some further test, I guess to pinpoint the exact gene upon which sits this hyperthyroid problem (cha-ching$$$$$). I nixed the last test - I am not paying for more tests for my cat's thyroid than my doctor orders for mine. I bought some medication to inhibit his thyroid function so he'll hopefully gain back that 2-3 pounds he's lost in the last few months. I also asked if I could scale back his antidepressants to once a day.
So far, the mixture of the two meds once a night seems to be working some minor wonders. He doesn't run around angrily anymore; I haven't caught him pissing anywhere yet. (I did add another litterbox, making room by moving something else elsewhere to do it, and have started scooping once a day rather than every couple of days.) He doesn't twitch his tail as much and seems less intent on clawing everyone (though he does still fight with Frank, who hasn't figured out to stop provoking him at this point). My sister commented a couple of nights ago, "He acts like he used to when he was younger" - i.e., in Sisterspeak, "like less of an asshole."
I dislike hoping too much after only a week and a half, but it'd be nice to not have to sit with him of a morning, again, and be able to possibly use that time once again for walking exercise instead, without worrying if he's back home pissing on something.
BONUS RANT: I love my two pets. I don't always like them some days because they're like the worst parts of teenagers, but I love them. I make sure they have regular vet care, a warm place to sleep, places to play, toys, a steady supply of expensive, high-meat food, and water. I know that having pets is a responsibility and costs some money. HOWEVER ... I am getting well and truly sick and tired of vets' attitudes anymore that $40 for a blood test, for example, "isn't that much" and this sort of pulsing, underlying, mostly-unvoiced vibe of "if you REALLY loved your pet and were a responsible adult, you'd pay whatever it takes to get them well." Um, no. No, I would not. Sorry - not because a pet isn't worth that kind of care, but because I personally do not earn "whatever it takes." I spent several years taking Sylvester to the vet for annual checkups, occasional illnesses, and, in one memorable two-month time period, exams every other day and all kinds of tests to figure out why he was throwing up and wouldn't eat or drink. (It turned out he was a little anemic. REALLY??) This was during the years I had no health insurance of my own and never went to the doctor because it was too expensive ... but the cat, I made sure he had medical care.
And, I might not be so very annoyed if an average annual checkup vet visit alone - complete with shots - didn't run $200-$300 these days. And there is NO waiving of that fucking "office exam" fee anywhere if you go in with an emergency and are paying for other expensive services at the same time. (You may say "well, that's life," but the vet I had to take Sylvester to over that two-month period, like every 2-3 days, would waive his fee sometimes or do a procedure for half-price here and there because he knew it was putting me in debt and the cat really needed help. So, no, it's an individual vet's choice, not inevitable "life.")
