Dayeen, day...een

Forgheen' pelleds.

Tonigh' the Smoothman, who nebber torch a keetchen eemplemen' een his libe, crosh' my pelleds por me, to meex weeth agua.

Whad the forghe? They doan' tastde bad enorf already?  You mos torn them into soup?

Kaka, I cry, y walgh away.

Almose', I feel sorry por heem.

You mos' ead, keedy, he say.

Whadebber, I say.

Lader, the Wooman corm home, y she lie arn the bed neghs to me y she open the bag ob Wheeskas treads (I refuse to tasde healthy beetameen tread) y she taghe worn oud y geeb eed to me. I ead. Arn the bed. Ees lighe Chreestmas. Nebber I yam allow to do thees. She geeb anorder worn. I ead. She geeb me Numero Tres. I ead. Quattro. Que rico. Cinco. Delicioso. Ocho - que sabroso.

I ead twenny.

Treads.

Een bed.

I yam a keeng.

I eegnore the peenk lamb charp. The order nigh' eed was fantasteec, smallpieces. Today eed ees...borreen'. Kaka.

The yoomans. They loogh ad me weeth beeg, roun' eyes. The Wooman cry. She theenk I doan' see.

He only eads treads, they wheesper.

Forgheen' A!!! I say.

Lader, she open por me a smallteen (ees same as smallcan) ob Weruba Lamb Borger. Ees wonnerful. I ead two helpeens'. The yoomans smile.

Morneen', nigh', they rob the new deesgosteen cream een my ears.  Ees my drorg por the Typhoid. To do thees they hab to wear CAT CONDOMS arn their feenger!!!!! (Eef they doan' I weell hab keettens. Or maybe the Wooman weell hab keettens, ees carnfuseen').

Wornce a day the Wooman geeb me smallpeel. She say ees "anti nausea". I say porque? I feel fine!

Madre de Dios, Gatito, she say.

So. The yoomans say today was a good day. Onteel tonigh' I no ead nada dureen' the day. Nobardy know why. Thees weegh I maybe geeb more blord. Las' weegh the ved tech, Neeck, say to the Wooman, We hab lorn' thad Thees Cad [ees me] has a certain breagheen' poin' weeth os.

Meaning I bide their arm arff when they try to geeb me eentrabenous saline. Forghe thad. I weell die lighe a man.

Yos keedeen'.

Y now the Wooman say she need to say sometheen. Teepical.

Hasta luego...

From the Wooman:

Thank you to all Estorbo's friends for all your love and kind comments. It means a great deal to know that you care about this kitty [ees me! Go away Estorbo! Ees my blarg! But this is my message, move. Bod I yam dyeen' - show me respeghd! You're not dying right now, Estorbo, you ate a good dinner! Eeeep].

Sorry about that...where was I?

Ah, yes. I have resurrected the Donate button, in the right sidebar. This is a difficult thing to do. Several of you have asked whether I would, or was going to. Now it is there, if you would like to donate to his medical fund. There is absolutely no expectation from anyone who reads this blog, to contribute to it. Many of you were very kind to do this in December 2011, and those donations paid for almost a year of expert veterinary care. 

So, there it is. We take it day by day [are you feeneesh? Nearly.] Estorbo still visits the terrace, the roof, and sleeps on the bed. He's been harvesting his own, early catnip. And he really did have a good dinner tonight.

Thank you. 

[Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz]

Estorbo update

This is the Wooman:

Time for an update for Estorbo's regular readers. I am sorry his posts have been infrequent, but it's hard to write funny stuff when I am very worried about him.

That doesn't look like a very unhappy cat, does it? That was Estorbo yesterday, when I got home from an appointment. I can't make the bed if he's on it, of course.

The recap - Estorbo was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism (he insists it is typhoid) about a year and a half ago. Healthy T (thyroid) levels are between 1-4. His were at 19. But he was eating very well - a lot! - and the only symptom was projectile vomiting a couple of times (which prompted the vet visit) and some panting.

On medication - Methimazole - his T-levels came down. Prior to that he'd had long-standing urinary tract issues because he did not drink enough water. I solved that by serving him dry food floating in water for every meal. Voila, blockages-be-gone. That was great - after having a blockage every 6-12 months he never had another.

Fast forward to 16 March 2013. Vince went to Montreal and the next day the cat stopped eating well. It had been two shots of pellets in the morning, and  four at night. Plus a small dish of canned food with his crushed pill in it, twice a day. Dayeen' dayoud. Like clockwork.

Now he refused his pellets. The timing with Vince's departure was uncanny. At first I thought it was the shift in routine, or that he just missed the Frenchman. I took him to the vet a week later when he was eating considerably less and the examining vet, not his internal medicine specialist Dr Slade, who was not in, found nothing alarming in his bloodwork, but she did not check his T-levels (unbeknownst to me).

A week later he saw Dr Slade (who did not charge us for his consultation because of the previous week's mix up). Estorbo's T-levels were at 6. Not awful, and perhaps because he was not eating all his drug food. Hard to say. Nothing else seemed alarming. He had a quick sonogram at no charge. No explanation for his decreased appetite. Dr Slade upped his dose of Methimazole.

So for the last two weeks Estorbo has been eating every kind of canned cat food, as well as chicken cooked to order, and as many vitamin treats as I can get him to eat. His meal schedule is all over the place. I just feed him whenever I think he will eat. At first he loved Weruva and Tiki,  and his chicken meals, and occasional meat. But the last couple of days have seen farther deterioration. He threw up violently, two days in a row. He ate some Purina baby food yesterday.

I decided I wanted to try another way of administering the drug, as he is simply not ingesting it. There is an ointment which is absorbed after it is smeared on an ear. Online I have read good reviews of it, and a couple of readers have also had success. It costs  two-and-a-half times as much as the drug, but that is now the least of our worries. If it does not work we will consider radiation therapy.

Because he has responded so well to his drug in the past, and has seemed so healthy over the last year, radiation was the last thing I wanted to try. It is very expensive, a couple of thousand dollars, but the worst part is that he has to be in an upstate clinic for about two weeks with no direct human contact, which will be traumatic. He will literally be radioactive. The success rate is high, but not 100%. The chance of it being unsuccessful also worried me.

So that is where we are. The new ointment arrives by UPS tomorrow. It is not dispensed by VERG as it must be compounded in custom batches.

Seeing him want to eat, and then turn away when the food is in front of him, breaks my heart. He is still purring when we pick him, looks at us with his beautiful eyes, blinking in the way cats do when they say, I love you. And, as you see, he can look perfectly normal. His fur on his back is not looking good. That is a bad sign. We think perhaps an anti-nausea medication might also help. Just to get him to eat.

I have to write to our cat sitters for May and June (hi, Dinah) - to explain this all. We will be gone for a month and he is now a high maintenance kitty. That may change things for sitters, who did not sign up for this. Naturally, I am hoping that the new ointment will help balance him out...

Till then, please send some purrs his way. And one or two for us, too.

3-28-13 Update: took him to VERG for an anti nausea injection. Ear ointment arriving tomorrow.

3-31-13 Update: Day 2 of Estorbo's ear ointment (which Vince had to track down in a Queens UPS depot - long story) as opposed to taking the Methimazole in pill form. He does not seem to mind having it rubbed inside his ears. He is still on anti-nausea medication and we will stop that tomorrow, and see what happens. His appetite is slightly improved, and he seems in good spirits.

Tapas

Oh goody. Ees snoween'.

Ees bedhair than goeen' to the bed. I mean, v-v-v-ed (ees hard: I yab theen leeps).

I yab to go bag. To the forgheen' bed. VED.

The las' bed tole' os, ten days ago "All the bloodworgh ees normal!!" The Wooman bread a sigh ob relieb. Me too. No more bed.

Yeah. Righ'.

Torns oud they nebber measured my T-lebels (Typhoid lebels). They measure my keedney y leeber balues only. My own bed, Dottore Slade, call the Wooman las' weegh to as' how I yam doeen' y tell hor the order Dr, who I saw las' time,  no as' por T-lebels. When she hear thees, the Wooman was...como si dices...?

PEESSED arff.

So now we go bag. Anorder essamination. Anorder forgheen' weethdrawal ob my blord.

$ Ka-ching $

Bod how am I doeen'? you as'?

I doan' really know. Por the las' worn, maybe two year, I am eadeen' seex sharts ob pelleds een worn day. Golden, cronchee, dayeen, dayoud, forgheen' delicioso. Before two year I was eadeen' only 4 sharts a day.

Now? Kaka!

Now, maybe I ead worn, two sharts ob pelleds. I also ead two small pequeno portions ob wed food weeth my drogas meexed een. Y now the Wooman cooghs me cheecken y geeb me raw meat, tambien - or sormtime' smallpiece lamb charp or tuna, because I no ead northeen' else. She geeb me treads, too, maybe 4, 6 a day... She say they hab veetmaneens. Sormtime I feel seeck after I yab eaten: I leeck my theen leeps. We wan' to know WHY I feel seeck.

So. Wha' can I say? Ees anorder time. The time ob Estorbo eadeen' the small deeshes ob tapas. No mas pelleds, dayeen', dayoud.

Ad larng forgheen' las'!

Wha' does a cad hab to do to ged a leedle cheecken deenhair aroun' here?

Play DEAD????

Cad arn strighe

Dayeen, dayoud.

Ees geddeen' boreen'.

Especially the pelleds.

Golden, cronchy delicious tasdeless...

Sigh.

I yam arn hongair strighe. I only ead the wed food. The yoomans say there are las drogas para el typhoid seeckness frarm wheech I soffhair, een the wed food, bod I doan' belieb them. I lorb the pequeno deesh ob wed food, two times in el dia.

Then corm the forgheen' pelleds. Main course. I yam nard eeadeen' the pelleds no mas. I refuse. Pelleds are so ober.

Today the Wooman breeng two new bags ob new pelleds. She theenk I weell leap eento the bags an' star' to storff my faze. No.

I yab preenceeples.

She geeb orp y she geeb me cheecken fram las' nigh'. El pollo. Muy rico. Delicioso. Lader, sorm beef.

Then she maghe forgheen' apppoin'men' por me see the VED.

The Smoothman say eed ees yos a "Phase".

The Wooman say I yam dyeen'.

I say, FEED ME REAL FOOD!

La Nieve

At las'! the Wooman clear a path por me een the snow. Was forgheen' eemparseeble to mobe ou' here. Loogh:

I lighe the snow. Ees forgheen' freezeen' bod berber'...como si dices...rejubenadeen'!

Eeeeeeep!

Tire ob thees sheet.

Forgheen' weenter.

I yam forgheen' freezeen'.

Y I yam tire' ob eadeen' forgheen' dry leabs arn the forgheen' terrace.

Forgh.

Wha' does the forgheen' groun' harg say?

Forgheen' groun' harg day.