Too Much Perfection?

My cat, Zoos, that I've blogged about before had continued to get sicker and sicker. His asthma attacks were coming more rapidly and more frequently so I made the arrangements this morning to send the wutz to my parents' and I took Zoos in to the vet to have him put to sleep. I stayed with him while my favorite vet told me I was doing the right thing and then he helped Zoos peacefully drift off.

It was a terrible decision to make. One I don't regret, but I am sad I had to make it. But it was better than him suffering over and over each time he suffered one of the asthma attacks.

I'm trying to happily remember the big fat cat that was given to me by DH as my wedding present. Zoos never wanted to be the center of attention and never even wanted to sit on a lap, but was quite content with a head rub or a light scratch behind the ears. The big blue eyes of that beautiful blue point as he would always follow me into the guest bathroom and use that as the only time he ever demanded attention.

He never complained, he never fought, he was never aggressive. Such a sweet sweet boy. My biggest regret is that I cannot find a photo of him. I know I have to have some from when he was younger, but several computer malfunctions later and I just cannot seem to dig any up. So I'm not posting a photo for that reason. I hate that I can't find one.

He's going to be missed.

Rest in peace, my sweet Zoos.

We just added a new family member to our home. Maybe. If she doesn't piss me off and I ship her back to her previous home.

What is she, you wonder? She is a smooth coated Fox Terrier. I think I've mentioned the breed some time ago. A guy that works next door to me shows them. This dog is named Baby. *blech* But she's a sweetie. She's 2 years old and is a retired champion. Champion at what, I'm not sure just yet. I'll keep you posted on that.

So far she's done very well. She's a teense hyper, but I know she's also nervous. Fortunately, she's already housebroken and crate trained. The wutz said he'd take care of her if we could keep her. Hah. Yeah, right. But cute cute cute of him to offer.

I'll post a picture later, because I still haven't transfered all the software to my new laptop out of sheer laziness. (Don't act like you are surprised.)

I'm beginning to feel like the crazy cat lady. After all the doctoring I'm doing to keep one alive, I've now got another fuzzbutt that has spent two days crying. Screaming. Crying. Whining.

Yeah. The siamese kitten. Her. She's driving me nuts. She normally is a very vocal cat, but the past two days have been constant. At first I thought it was the weather because we were expecting nasty storms. Now I think she's just pissed because she's getting old enough to sow her furry oats.

Too bad, pussy. Too bad. So just shut up already. Geez.

I blogged previously about my sick siamese. He's been diabetic for a few years and we recently discovered that he has advanced stage asthma/respiratory problems. As in, the worse the Univ. of Georgia radiologists have ever seen. Yeah. That bad.

I wasn't surprised, though. It seems my animals always have firsts. Like my golden retriever's fishing line leg ligament. Or one of my horse's massively stobbed tendon sheath. If the shit can go wrong, it does go wrong. On an epic scale.

But I digress. As per usual.

Anyways, he's been doing so-so. I'm giving him insulin twice a day now instead of once. I'm also giving him oral steroids. A pill.

Yeah, I'm giving a cat a pill. I've done worse, though. Thank goodness he's got the mildest disposition ever. And I'm doubly thankful for experience in the whole feline med-giving because I once had a siamese that had to have medication daily and she was like trying to get medicine in a cheetah. Not fun.

Again, I digress.

So tonight I was giving the cat his insulin. It went well. I injected him carefully, because he's lost a lot of weight and I don't want to put the needle in the wrong spot, and because I hate needles and I try to be mindful and respectful with them. Until it got to the point where I had to recap the needed. I wasn't paying attention as I drove the needle into the little plastic orange cap. No, I didn't miss. Instead that little fucking needle pierced through the cheap plastic cap and pierced my finger. To. The. Bone.

Argghhhh.

Such a little needle. So much owwie. I nearly fainted. Yeah. Seriously. Did I mention I hate needles?

I think I'm going to officially fire myself and make it DH's job from now on. Either that or I want hazard pay or something.

Ouch.

My 12 year old blue point Siamese boy was diagnosed a couple of years ago with diabetes. Recently I've noticed the symptoms returning so I took him in to the vet to have his levels checked. We made some changes and he did okay for about a week. Then he started panting. I assumed it was Kussmaul breathing which can happen if their blood sugar skyrockets. He did it off and on for two days over the holidays. I took him in on Monday to see what they thought. In the end they couldn't see how the blood sugar would be causing the continued rapid panting, so they x-rayed him. His lung films looked like someone laid a piece of lace over them, there's that much asthmatic type damage. The vet said it looked like end stage asthma. I've never noticed anything odd about his breathing other than he was a little noisy and he snores.


So the vet sent the films to the radiologist at UGA. He looks at them and says the same thing, but he also says it is one of the worst cases he's seen and he wants to use the x-rays in his teaching.


Now Zoos is on steroids to try to make his breathing better, but that will likely screw up his blood sugar levels. It's a Catch 22. Poor guy.

So if you have it in you to say healing prayers for a feline, he could certainly use some. *sigh*