Catfriend at Home

Olivia is back where she belongs, reclining on the hardwood floors of La Casa del Terror. I brought her home Friday afternoon via taxi (it was wicked cold, with a breeze coming straight off of still-frigid Lake Michigan), along with many supplies designed to keep her in good health: an IV bag for delivering subcutaneous (under the skin) fluids (every day); antacid pills (every day); appetite stimulant pills (twice a week); and special food for renal-failure patients.

It was heartening to see her tuck into the special wet food tin I put down when we got home, and even more so to see that, by Saturday morning, she'd licked the bowl clean and even started hitting the dry food. If she'd eaten like that all weekend, I'd have been overjoyed. Unfortunately, her appetite is still hit or miss: Sometimes she'd come close to finishing the moist food, other times she'd eat less than half.

I also found that Olivia seriously hates taking medication. She tries to jump off the tray table I use to give her the IV fluids and, a couple of times, succeeded, sending fluid squirting all over the bathroom. The pills were even worse--when I popped one down her throat, she produced an amazing amount of drool--projectile drool!--to force the pills back out. With all the drool, I wasn't even sure the medication had gone in and stayed in.

It was no surprise, then, that when we went to the vet on Monday for a followup appointment, her blood work hadn't really changed--it hadn't gotten worse (good news, really), but it hadn't gotten better either. I told the vet about the drool, and she changed the antacid to an injection rather than a pill--much easier to administer. She also prescribed two more medications: a liquid to bind the phosphorous in Olivia's system (unfortunately to be given twice daily) and an injection to help fight the anemia (three times a week).

The oral medication still is not a hit, especially since the liquid has to be given twice daily, but Olivia has learned quickly that drool is no defense for liquid (it's already down the throat, kitty), and the liquid helps send the appetite stimulant pill where it's supposed to go with less combat. (Note I did not say "no combat"; it still took three attempts to get the appetite stimulant down.)

I took the last two days off of work de to my own physical issues (i.e., "The Chest Congestion That Wouldn't Die!"), so I spent that time lavishing attention on Olivia. It sucks to be home sick with a sick kitty, but if I hadn't stayed home yesterday, I wouldn't have seen the effects of the medication cocktail. Olivia was very much herself
for the day, chatting constantly, digging under the covers while I tried to nap, and not only playing with her toys, but bring them to me to throw for her. It's been ages since we played fetch; quite wonderful to see.

Not as wonderful, though, as what happened when I put half a tin of Friskies salmon pate down for Olivia at dinnertime. I've rarely seen a cat at any age or stage of health Hoover food like she did with that pate. I wound up having to put more down for her. This morning, the bowl was clean.

A work in progress, my li'l kitty is. I can only hope for more on the "progress" front--and if yesterday was any reasonable indication, there's plenty of reason for hope.

One last thing: Superbadfriend stopped by La Casa yesterday afternoon to drop off a small bag of goodies for Olivia. This is what happened to the bag less than a minute after I brought it in.