Wednesday, June 13, 2007


Today I was going to post a picture of my cat, Casey. I was going to make fun of him because on Monday he went to the vet for his usual check-up, blood sugar check (diabetes, for those of you who don't know) and for a shave. You see in his old age he has become unable to care for his long luxurious fur as he once was. And the matted fur is much too horrible and plentiful for us to brush out. Thus the haircut. We have never had this done to him before. I can't believe how tiny he looks without the majority of his fur. And everyone always calls him fat! Sheesh. You and me both buddy. We're just fluffy!

But then on Tuesday afternoon I went downstairs to do some laundry. Casey was down there and when he tried to follow me up the stairs I noticed he couldn't do it. It was almost like his leg was broken or something. I carried him up and then watched as he struggled to get around the house. I called the vet and told them what was going on and they asked me to bring him right in. May I take the opportunity to complain about what a pain it is to drag a 25 pound kid and 20 pound cat to the vet? No? Fine.

Casey who normally greets everyone at the clinic with scary guttural sounds and much hissing – was silent. The staff, who has gotten to know us quite well since Casey's diagnosis, were very concerned about his silence. As they picked up his kennel to take him to the back Miss A grabbed the front cage with her tiny fingers and cried. It actually broke my heart a little when she did that. We pried her little vice grip off the kennel and I took her home to wait for the news.

I was certain we would have to go back later that day to have him put down. I was trying to prepare myself for what that was going to be like and I wasn't looking forward to it. Finally the vet called and explained what he suspected was going on. He said that there was nothing wrong with his legs just that he was basically acting intoxicated. He told me it could be a side effect from the sedative they'd given him in order to do the haircut. They could give him more counter agent and see if that helped.

From there the story gets a bit carried away. To sum up – he took a long time to get 'back to normal' which was partial compounded by his diabetes. He spent the night and most of today there but he is home now and seemingly himself again. So many times I get frustrated with him, his incessant meowing, his tendency to get right underfoot but the truth is I'd miss him so much if he wasn't around. A missed him. She kept babbling and saying the word 'kitty' all day.

He is a member of our family and we're glad to have him home.

What he usually looks like:

What he looks like now:


bon said...

ooo. Your poor kitty. Hope he sticks around for a good long time, and feeling spunky while he does it!

mns said...

Poor Casey! Guess he isn't attacking any ankles this week, eh?

I know what you mean about your A being so attached to him. Last wk Ronan went for a haircut, and our A was SO distressed when daddy was taking his dog away! We knew A liked Ronan, but not how much. So sweet.

Pats to Casey for a speedy recovery. Hopefully his pride is okay, too.