stacey ewing

Well, we dropped the boy off this morning for an abdominal ultrasound. The vet thought she felt a lumpy tumor in there last week and thought it would be a good idea to do this, espec. in light of his recent digestive issues. The specialist from UF did the scan and found that some of the loops in his small intestine are hardened. It could be cancer or it could be irritable bowel disease. Also, one of his kidneys is larger than the other, indicating a possible kidney infection (even though he’s not presenting outward signs of one).

Our vet had several options. We could do exploratory surgery and get a definitive diagnosis of cancer or IBD to the tune of $700-900 bucks. If it was cancer then he could do chemo at UF for a couple thousand more dollars. The problem (besides the primary issue of us just simply not having the cashola) is that he’s 17, going on 18, and has a heart murmur which makes anesthesia tricky. So those two issues combined with our brokedness pretty much nixes the surgery/chemo-if-necessary route.

She told us that if it is IBD, we would treat it by steroids and if it was cancer, steriods would keep the growth at bay for a time. So we’re going the steroids route. It’s a real bummer to see him so thin- he’s lost 3lbs since May and is down to 6lbs now (keep in mind, this is a cat who has been 14.7 lbs pretty much his entire life up until the last year). I gave him a bath Tuesday night and he looked so much like Pris in the tub- he’s that small now. :\

The good news is that when Pris was on steroids, they bought her two extra years near the end. So maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll buy us just a little extra time with the big guy not so big guy. :)

He’s so happy to be home tonight. It’s kinda sad, they missed a few spots on his belly when they shaved him so he looks a little funny. We started him on the steroids earlier this eve along with antibiotics to clear up the possible infection. Man, it’s hard to believe that it’s been 17 years since Tim rescued him from Molnar in Ft. Pierce!

PRIS = squeedunk, beebs, beebers, peeps, peeper, cheetah, sweetie-beetie, “p,” poops, pooper, sweetie, baby-girl, pretty girl, beautiful girl, sweetie, little one, swiss miss, the swiss miss pris, miss thang, “p-p,” kitty-witty, french fry, princess p, squirrel-girl, sweetie-pie, my baby, squee, cheetah-girl, cheetah-wheelie, schupeup, schupeupty-peupty, schupeupty-peupty-pents, prissy, miss priss, AND the shadout meeps.

Sigh. I get home from work to find that Mortimer had a little “misstep” in the catbox. This was problematic because: 1. he doesn’t like to be picked up or held. 2. he doesn’t like to be picked up or held 3. he doesn’t like to be picked up or held. 4. he will eat you if you try to pick him up or hold him… yep, it was a good time trying to hold him down with one hand and knee while wiping off his “stinkfoot” with a wet rag.

From this angle, you’d never know he’d just been traumatized five minutes ago:

A shot of his “now clean” foot. It’s really too bad you can’t hear him growling a half-serious, “I’m going to eff you up but good if you don’t drop that foot NOW” warning. It’s kinda funny when he does that:

stinkfoot, stinkfoot, i ain’t lyin’… can you rinse it off do you suppose??

I’m sorry for posting this but I still can’t get over the insanity of this site: http://www.neuticles.com Neuticles…whaaaa???

I clicked through their pages and thought it was an hilarious parody site until I got to the video section where they show the actual surgery- O.M.G. (not “OMG” mind you, but O.M.G.) So, I immediately contacted “MM,” one of our dear friends who just graduated from UF’s vet med program (as valedictorian no less!!), and asked her, “WTF??!!!” She confirmed that Neuticles IS indeed a legitimate company and yes, people actually buy these implants for their pets. oh dear. So does this mean we are we bad pet parents because we didn’t consider Mort’s self-esteem 17 years ago and spring for a pair for the ol’ boy?

Anyway, I don’t think after seeing one of these:

that I’ll be able to again eat one of these:
ugh!

Well, George Bush and the IRS “stimulated” us on friday and nearly all of it was spent within 24 hours… on our sick, geriatric kitties… sigh, oh well, so much for being able to attend the ALA conference in California this summer. :\

On Friday, Tim took Pris to the vet because she was looking pretty bad and leaving what Tim calls the “trifecta” (a combo of vomit, urine, & feces) right outside the litter box every morning (and sometimes in the afternoon) while I was away at the conference (so sorry to have missed that! har har!). Oh man, are we ever glad to have tile floors in that area! [If you need a good stock tip- buy lots and lots of shares in Chlorox... our household alone has exponentially increased the company's value over the last twelve months! Seriously, we go to Sam's and they just bring out a pallate on the forklift and load it directly into the station wagon...]

Poor kitty, tim was giving her subcutaneous fluids every other day and had increased her prednisolone dosage per doc’s instructions from last week but she still wasn’t doing very well. We were both worried that the vet was going to say that it was finally time for the “pink juice.” sigh.

Well, turns out there was good news and bad… it’s not time for the “pink juice” but she DOES have a urinary tract infection. Her white blood was so high that the vet suspects it may have travelled to her kidneys so another special test was ordered with results coming in on Monday. She’d lost another pound since January so she was down to about 4lbs. If she’s not doing better by next week, they’re going to take more blood to send off to Michigan State’s endocrinology lab for thyroid testing since her t-4 level was up from 3 to 7. They juiced her up with some subcu. fluids before sending her home so she looked pretty good by the time I got back Friday evening.

She is now on 1.5 doses of pred, 2 cans of science diet KD, 1 tsp of plain metamucil, clavamox antibiotics (for infection), and glyco-flex (for arthritis) …all of this is given daily… in addition to 150ml of lactated ringers (subcu. fluid) as needed. I swear, we’re like a freakin’ full-service vet hospital here at home.

Then, this morning, we had to take Mort in to see Doc Nichols. Apparently, all week while I was away at the conference, he suffered from “the diarrhea” and looked like he was losing weight. (Did I mention that everyone who works at Millhopper Vet knows us all by name??). He’d recently had a blood test in Feb. so she didn’t order another one today but they gave him a full exam (he LOVES the part where they take his temperature… oh yeah.). His heart murmur is up from a 1-2 out of 6 to a 2-3 out of 6. He’s got two really nasty looking teeth so those will have to be taken care of as soon as we can save up for the surgery. They’ll have to give him an ultrasound beforehand to figure out what kind of special anesthetic to use.

Meanwhile, she sent him home with 3 cans of science diet ID (mild diet for his stomach for the next coupla days), Pro-Pectalin (which smells like total ass but is supposed to work kind of like Imodium. It is chicken flavored and looks like tan caulk… blech!), and 150ml of subcu fluids to help him rehydrate. oh man, I hope all of this works.

I love the hawks that sit in the tree a few buildings away from mine. On stressful days, it’s really nice to look out my office window and see them hanging out and scanning this side of campus for “rogue were-squirrels” to feast upon. Sometimes there is only one and lately there have been two (I think they’re married…heh).

I finally brought in a pair of binoculars (thanks Clannus Austinus!) so I could get a better zoom on them than my camera would yield and was able to ID them. They’re red-tailed hawks. According to some sites (on teh interwebs) they weigh between 1-4lbs and can have a wingspan up to 4ft! My two hawks are 2+ years old as their tailfeathers are red and not brown. Apparently when they dive for prey, they fly as fast as 120mph!! They eat prey that is racoon-sized or smaller (Carrie- make sure to keep Ramses on that lead!!). They live a fairly long life in the wild- 10-15 years (20-23 in captivity). Very cool.

Came across this article today and can’t help but to think 23 months in jail isn’t long enough for this kind of animal abuse.

I’ve had people try to argue with me that pit bulls LOVE to fight and that it’s in their nature to do this but I’ve always taken the position, would these dogs intentionally seek each other out, ON THEIR OWN, to fight one another in that manner without human intervention??? C’mon, people train these dogs to fight and to respond the way they do in the fighting ring and the methods they use to train these dogs are downright cruel.

Many of the dogs in the Vick-funded camp that didn’t make the cut were hanged, electrocuted, drowned, or shot. Luckily some of the dogs from that training camp were allowed a second chance through special rescue groups. This sweet boy was one of the lucky ones:

Here’s a good, two minute audio slideshow: http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2008/02/01/sports/20080202_VICK_AUDIOSS.html#section1

Ever have one of “those” days?
Luckily, for me, today wasn’t one of them. :)
I still like the picture below and it’s not photoshopped either… http://www.thomaspeschak.com/kayak-great-white-sharks-/

I had a weird sort of horror-movie moment this morning on my way to work. I got in around 6:45am, parked over by the architecture building, and walked across that part of campus over to Library West. It was eerily quiet and empty during my short hike up the hill. Once I got to the Plaza d’Americas, I cut across the grass through a small stand of trees. As I neared the stand, about four or five squirrels raised alarm and all started barking at the same time. When I walked underneath, they simultaneously started shaking the branches and suddenly, millions of acorns rained down upon me!! Ow! Dammit! Ow! Seriously- I’m not making this up- I think they were out to get me. I looked up in time to see one of the squirrels pluck an acorn from his branch and throw it at me- hitting me on the forehead! Spooked, I kept walking and didn’t look back, hearing their chatter slowly fade as I hurried away. I certainly wasn’t going to stick around to see if they were of the flesh-eating sort. *shudder*