In the Dark

Another day, another feline emergency.

This morning I got up to feed my old moggy Columbo. As usual, he was out and about first thing in the morning, but as soon as I got downstairs he was there waiting for his grub. I put it down for him, gave him a dish of fresh water, and did the usual insulin jab.  He started to scoff the food. As usual, the combination of eating and purring produced a sound like a pig at a trough so I left him to it and proceeded to make a cup of tea.

A few seconds later, Columbo sneezed. Nothing particularly unusual about that so I didn’t pay much attention. While I was waiting for the kettle to boil, however, I noticed something strange. There was blood on the food in the cat’s bowl, and a fine spray of blood on the wall behind it. Columbo had resumed eating, and seemed fine, but there was clearly something very wrong.

As it happens, a trip to the vet’s was on my agenda for today because I needed more of Columbo’s Feline MD, food which is specially designed (and specially priced too, apparently) for diabetic cats. I also needed some more insulin and some more of the tablets he has for his arthritis. Never cheap, these trips to the vet. Since I was going to go anyway, I thought I’d take him in for a check up, and phoned to see whether they could fit in an appointment this morning, which they did.

After completing the not too easy task of persuading Columbo into his travel box, off I went to do the honours. Soon he was sitting on the vet’s table, looking right as rain and showing no ill-effects at all. He was even purring; he seems to like this vet more than any other he’s ever been to. Anyway, I told the (sceptical-looking) vet what happened and she gave him the once over. She said the blood could be a sign of something quite serious, but it could have happened for any number of trivial reasons. Not finding anything wrong in his mouth or nose, she asked me whether I had found anything strange in his dish when he had sneezed. In fact there had been a small piece of a blade of grass, which I’d thought slightly odd but hadn’t mentioned because I didn’t think it was relevant.

The vet smiled and said she thought that was probably it. She went on to explain that cats often eat grass in the summer, sometimes to help digestion but also sometimes to help them produce furballs. It’s not all that unusual for a small piece of grass – which can be quite sharp – to find its way into the cat’s nasal passages from its mouth and when it gets there it can cause a nosebleed. Since the offending grass had found its way out, the problem was probably over. I sighed with relief. Panic over. It must have been unpleasant for the old chap, but better out than in.

The vet mentioned that Columbo has pretty good teeth for a 16-year old cat, although he is missing one long incisor at the front. The end snapped off this ages ago, probably during a fight. It didn’t seem to cause him any problems at the time so the vet said it was best just to leave it. A year or two later, however, he began to experience dfficulty eating and the vet suggested it was probably the tooth causing the bother. He spent a day at the cat hospital and had it removed under a general anaesthetic. Sorted. The rest of his gnashers are in good nick, as he is wont to demonstrate on unsuspecting visitors.

I was a bit worried that he might have developed another dodgy fang or some other mouth problem. I’d be a bit nervous about subjecting him to a general anaesthetic at his current age, as the risk increases markedly for the more senior citizens of the feline world. Thankfully, that’s not an issue. Not for the time being anyway.

After we got back he spent the rest of the day on a rigorous programme of sleeping, interrupted only by an attempt to eat the Travel Supplement of my newspaper.

Nearly time for his supper. I hope this time it’s not to be sneezed at.

It’s been a while since I posted anything about Columbo, so I decided to take a quick picture of him in the garden. Now the roses have gone, but the lilies are out and I thought it would look nice to get a snap of him with them in the background. He didn’t seem to keen to pose, however, and I had to settle for this one in which he looks more than a little grumpy…

The hot humid weather we’ve been having recently broke on Thursday with a considerable downpour of rain. Columbo was delighted. With him being diabetic I have to make sure he gets plenty of water so I give him a fresh bowlful every morning. Usually, however, he prefers to go outside and drink rainwater from varies containers around the garden. During the hot spell these have gradually dried up and he’s been forced to drink the water I provide, which he clearly doesn’t like as much. I asked the vet about this and he said it’s because tap water smells funny to cats. Dirty water in a manhole cover doesn’t, apparently.

Anyway, when it rained Columbo went out and started lapping water up from puddles and off the leaves of the shrubs in the garden. He obviously loved it, although he was a very soggy moggy when he finally decided he’d had enough.

One of the drawbacks of Cardiff is that it’s a pretty damp place generally, partly because it rains quite often and partly because it’s very low-lying. My own house is near the River Taff – on its flood plain, in fact – so the water table isn’t far down. The result of this is that the garden can become a profusion of slugs and snails. Fortunately, I’ve never had the problem that some neighbours have had with slugs getting into the house. The hot weather has kept them away this year, but when I went out yesterday morning they were all over the lawn and even climbing up the walls. Obviously they prefer damp conditions, but it doesn’t take much to make them spring into life. Today’s warm again and I didn’t see any this morning. I wonder where they go when it’s too dry?

It’s sunny again today and Columbo’s reverted to his usual place in the shade at the end of the garden, emerging occasionally to make a half-hearted attempt to catch butterflies. The slightly odd weather seems to have done wonders for flowering plants – the roses were lovely this year, and the honeysuckle is still going which probably explains the large number of butterflies.

I wish I could persuade some songthrushes to visit and feast upon my latent slug population, but I suppose with a fierce cat lurking in the bushes they’re wise to stay away.

People keep asking me how Columbo is getting on and I realise it’s been ages since I posted an update, so I thought I’d take the opportunity afforded by the fine weather to take a few snaps in the garden and put them on here. It’s actually 26 degrees in the shade as I post this, which is warm enough for Columbo to see refuge behind the Forsythia. It can’t be much fun having to wear a fur coat in this weather.

I took Columbo to the vet yesterday for a six-monthly check up during which they took a blood sample to test his blood sugars. There was only one vet on duty yesterday so there was a long wait to get into the consulting room during which time lots of people with dogs arrived. It was also very warm, with the result that both dogs and owners were a bit tetchy because of the delay. I was a bit worried when a rather nasty-looking pit bull came in, thinking he might take an unhealthy interest in Columbo’s box, but he confined himself to having a go at one of the other dogs and was banished to the car park.

Columbo wasn’t at all bothered by the heat and noise. In fact I could hear him purring in his box. He likes this vet more than any other I can remember, and when we did get called in he continued to purr, at least until they took the blood sample.

I hadn’t seen this particular vet before, but she had all his notes. Columbo turned 16 in March this year, but he’s still doing pretty well especially when you consider he’s been diabetic for the last 5 years or so and has needed special food and twice-daily injections of insulin. He’s showing his age a bit and has slowed down quite a bit, but still has his moments. He’s taken on quite a bit of ballast since the last visit – at 7.35 kilos he’s quite a heavyweight – but the vet said that she wasn’t very worried about that given his age. He’s always been a bit greedy and if he ever lost his appetite that would be a bad sign.

I have to wait for the blood works to come back before we know whether his insulin dose needs changing, so there’s no news on that. However, there is one development since his last visit. The vet last time wasn’t sure, but after yesterday’s examination this vet was pretty certain that he has a bit of arthritis. I’ve notice he has pretty stiff legs from time to time, which don’t seem to cause any pain, but they do stop him jumping onto the kitchen table. Anyway, he’s been started on glucosamine tablets now. It’s not a big deal as I take glucosamine myself. I’ve got knackered legs too, you see.

One of the effects of his weight and arthritis is that he finds it a little difficult to groom himself all over, so I have to give him a good going over with a metal brush. He likes this on his head and upper body, but isn’t very happy when I brush his belly or hind quarters. Given the season, loads of hair comes off on the brush and without this he’d get a bit matted and moth-eaten.

Anyway, that’s all for now. He’s basically doing fine and, as you can see from the first picture, despite the advancing years he’s still a handsome chap!

POSTSCRIPT 24th May. Got the blood results back. They’re fine. Back to the vet in 6 months.

Having a slightly later than usual breakfast this morning, I noticed two feline intruders in the garden. I’ve never seen either of them before so it was quite a shock.

One of them was a stunningly sleek black cat with spectacular orange-coloured eyes. This one is clearly a very cool animal, sitting elegantly on the shed roof  and surveying the scene below with apparent disdain. The other one was totally different: a tortoiseshell  with white patches, young and quite slightly built, with a small face but big ears and a very large nose. Most comically of all, cat number two had disproportionately large feet to the extent that she (?) looked like she was wearing white boots.  I went out to try to take a picture, but they both did off like greased lightning as soon as I went outside.

Columbo didn’t pay them much attention, so maybe they’re regular visitors and I only noticed them this morning because I’m on a different routine, heading off to the airport instead of going to work. I’m sure if they went anywhere near his food it would be a different story.

Anyway, this little episode reminded me to let Columbo’s many admirers know that he’s doing fine. He’s spending more time outside now that the worst of the winter appears to be over (?) and seems to be in good spirits. I promise to post some pictures when I get back. I know I’ve promised before but I keep forgetting.

Since the end of the year is drawing near and I’m not in the mood for writing anything strenuous, I thought I’d post a short update about Columbo. When I went up to Newcastle on Christmas Eve I left him in the capable hands of an expert pet-sitter, who obviously took good care of him as he was in fine fettle when I arrived back on 27th December. He’s since returned to his routine of eating and sleeping and appears to be well.

He’s going to be 16 on March 31st 2010, which is pretty old for a tom cat. It’s hard to believe he’s been with me for so long. Alhough he’s slowed down quite a bit over the years, he still has his moments as you can see from the picture above, which I found yesterday on my old mobile phone. It shows the scene of a recent crime, although the perpetrator appears to have made no attempt to effect a getaway. Judging by the squashed state of the decedent, I’d say the cause of death might well have been being sat on. Columbo hasn’t caught many mice or other rodents and hasn’t made much attempt to eat them on those rare occasions when he has managed to nab one. This particular victim is still basically in one piece, although clearly it has seen the last of its days.

Back in Newcastle I had the chance to see again the three cats that employ my mum to look after them. They’re all female cats, very small and dainty ones, and I’d guess that if you added them together they still wouldn’t weigh as much as Columbo. The oldest one is called Lucy, and she’s also the friendliest and most communicative. She’s also particularly fond of shoelaces. Then there’s Tilly and Daisy, who are much quieter. There’s a curious kind of hierarchy of power amongst them though, because Lucy is quite scared of Daisy who must be the boss of the house.  I couldn’t help wondering how Columbo would have got on had I taken up there to see them all. There would have been skin and hair flying, of course but, although he’s a big galoot, I wouldn’t put money on him winning a fight against any other cat no matter how small. He’s too much of a softie.

Columbo, reflecting on the meaning of existence

Today I took Columbo to his new vets. I was meaning to do this ages ago but I couldn’t find a convenient time during working hours to do take him there. Usually he hates going to the vets and adding in the fact that this was an entirely new place for him I was quite nervous about him getting a bit stressed.

As it turned out he was very perky this morning and I got him into his box quite easily (which makes a change). I turned up right on time at the vets for his 9am appointment and introduced him to the staff in reception. As always they remarked on what a big cat he is and how cute he looks. He has a particularly large head for a cat and he sometimes looks more like a teddy bear than a pussycat.

He’s had a bit of a tough week, especially on Wednesday with Bonfire Night fireworks going off all around my house until after 10pm. From my bedroom window I saw for free a magnificent display going on in Victoria Park which was very much better than the one I paid to see on Saturday. I kept Columbo indoors all evening, and he coped OK with the noise from the fireworks especially when I distracted him with his favourite brush. On the other hand, next door’s small yappy-type dog barked every time there was a significant explosion within earshot producing irritating sounds which neither I nor Columbo appreciated.

Surprisingly he didn’t look at all miserable in the vet’s reception and when I took him through to the consulting room he sat upright on the examining table with his ears pricked.  At other vets he usually moped around and tried to hide, which is a difficult task given his size.  This time he was quite comfortable during the quick examination at which he was pronounced fit and healthy.

One thing cats do when they’re nervous is to sweat from their paws (practically the only place they sweat from). Often when I’ve lifted Columbo from the vet’s table, wet pawprints have been left behind. Not this time, though.

The vet then wanted to take a blood sample in order to check his glucose levels. This has previously been the traumatic bit. The vet I saw today, however, had a different approach to all the others. Instead of taking a vial of blood from the throat area, which requires shaving the neck and introducing a needle into the big vein to draw the sample, this vet used a tiny needle to extract the merest dab from one of his ears. He certainly felt it, but it was all over in a flash. His blood glucose came out around 7 which is very good, considering that in stressful situations (like visits to the vets) the level usually rises.

As the vet typed up the notes and made out a prescription for more insulin, Columbo felt comfortable enough to take a little stroll around the room and explore a few of the interesting cupboards. I’ve never seen him so relaxed in such a situation before. I always imagined that the smells of other animals (some of which are in distress) is what affects him when he goes to the vet but although there were other cats waiting in reception, he wasn’t fazed at all.

Last thing was to weigh him. I’ve been trying to control his food to reduce his weight and it seems to be working slowly. This time he was down to about 6.35 kg. Still quite hefty, but heading in the right direction.

So then it was back into the box and out to reception. They had his insulin and needles in stock, present and correct, all ready for collection and, after I’d pocketed the gear, off we went. I was back home by 9.30. I let Columbo out of the box and, his excitement for the day over, he settled down to sleep on the sofa.