Spanky's check-up: a meditation and news

My older cat Spanky (which is funny to say because, until Sophie's arrival, Spanky had always been the baby) was due for his annual check-up, so yesterday I sedated him and took him over to the clinic. Why did I sedate him? Because if I didn't sedate him, his evil twin, the Demon Cat from Hell, would have emerged, and he'd have been impossible to handle.

I always feel guilty sedating Spanky. Ultimately, it's for everyone's good, because a cat who doesn't bite and doesn't fight is easier and safer to handle and to examine and treat than a cat who does. The vet actually has a safety notice in his records about him; I don't do this lightly. Because I've had to medicate Spanky since his infancy, giving him eyedrops and things like that, at home he trusts me completely and will take anything from me. When I give him eyedrops, he purrs. So I always feel a little as though I'm betraying his trust by giving him his tranquilizer an hour before we're to depart. And it really goes right to his head. Yesterday afternoon, about a half hour after I gave him his pill, he was walking across the living room floor when he stopped and just fell over, as if some tiny person had gone cat-tipping. He was fine, as he always is. I got him comfortable on a blanket and let him sleep until it was time to put him into the carrier to go to the vet's office.

He always revives a bit on the drive over. This time was no different. We got to the vet, I took him out of the carrier, and he couldn't decide if he was going to love all over me (which he did) or growl and hiss (which he also did). But here's the thing: he was too droopy to bite or claw or tense up, which let the vet do everything that needed to be done. The exam included the usual poking and prodding. This time, it also included a blood draw and the administering of fluids, because the Spanker was a little dehydrated. I know exactly how awful that all would have been if he hadn't been calm and cooperative.

I love having cat companions. I feel responsible for their well-being. I hate their getting old and sometimes needing attention that they don't like or is uncomfortable. I want them to be healthy and warm and safe. I know that visits to the vet are part of their maintenance, and I'm thankful that I have the means to attend to their needs.

ETA: Just heard from the vet about Spanky's tests. He's anemic and in mild kidney failure. This means daily injections of epigen (designed to help boost red blood cell production) for 10 days, plus iron and potassium supplements. I'm going in this afternoon to learn how to give him the injections and, maybe, to learn how to give him fluids. Oy. This is more than I had anticipated. Hm. And I need to bring him in--not sedated. Time to gird myself. This will be...not fun. And I'm not sure I'm ready for everything else it may mean.

One step at a time.

scarlettina's training

So this afternoon I went to the vet to learn how to give Spanky his injections of Epigen. I was instructed to bring him with me, unsedated. I knew this was a bad idea, but I followed instructions, wanting to be a good cat mom and a good client.

We kept him in the carrier while I learned about the meds he is to receive, and while I was taught how to prepare the injection. I practiced taking the caps off both ends of the syringe, holding the bottle of medication upside down, sticking in the syringe and drawing out the medication. I practiced inserting the syringe on a folded-up towel.

Then it was time to try it on Spanky. We put the carrier on the table, Spanky hissing all the while. The vet tech put on thick, protective gloves. I buttoned up the thick hunting shirt I wore. We took Spanky out. He screamed and growled and spat. He latched onto the vet tech's gloved hands and bit and clawed. We were able to get him to eat some of the food, but there was no way for me to give him a practice injection with saline; he was too tense and angry. So upsetting to see him this way. It took three of us to get him back into the carrier.

I practiced on the resident donor cat, Izzy. It wasn't as bad as I thought it might be, and the kitty managed it well enough.

I feel comfortable with the new food and the medication I have to give Spanky orally. Having given two injections (of saline) to Izzy, I feel pretty confident that I can do it for Spanky. But I admit that I left the clinic freaked out and sad. I still feel drained and unhappy.

Spanky starts his new regimen of new food and medication tomorrow morning. I hope I'm up to it.