Eye can still spy

We heard from Dr Chloe today and the FANTASTIC news is that after much debate among the various eye specialists at Animal Eye Care in Malvern, they have decided I get to keep my eye for the time being. Woo hoo!

It's not the end of the road yet, though. We will still be monitoring it carefully for any change, but they reckon it can't be cancerous yet, because if it were I'd probably be dead already. (Sobering thought.)

So, we go back in February for another check up and see what happens after that . . .

More pee problems

Not feeling too well today. It hurts to pee and to make sure Ellen knew about it I went in the bath -- just so she'd see it and know that I was miserable. It's the worst thing when this happens. It's back and forth between the litter tray and the bath and the shower, just to get some pee out. It's been so long since I've had this problem that I thought I was cured, but it would seem not.

Anyway, Ellen dragged me to the vet, and to be honest I didn't protest too much. We saw Dr Jenny, who is very familiar with my fragile bladder, and she gave me some anti-inflammatories and antibiotics, which will have Ellen shoving pills down my throat for the next week at least. But at least I feel a bit better.

A side-effect is that I'm back on the urinary food and off the 'obesity management' diet -- woo hoo! Although I'm not sure for how long. (You'd think it would teach them not to put me on a diet?!) I have a feeling that Dr Jenny and Ellen are concocting something between them in that department, though. They've even tried me on wet food this evening - strange stuff indeed. Not sure whether I like it or not yet.

Off my food

Thank the cat gods that's over. Three days locked inside, all alone. Forced to use litter trays. Simply awful.

At least there were three litter trays to chose from, although I only needed one. I found I lost my appetite through the whole ordeal actually. At first I kept coughing up hairballs and then I couldn't keep any food down. So there was quite a lot of food left over.

But I survived. And aside from leaving piles of half-digested food for Ellen to clean up, I didn't make any mess at all.

But I do hope my cat door gets fixed soon!

Still here!

Sorry it's been a while since I've posted -- almost four months in fact. But the good news is that I'm still here!

After that last incident, Ellen took me down to the island for a four-day weekend in November. I guess that'll teach me to make a statement! But it was nice to have a change of scene. I was very good while I was down there, and so long as my litter gets changed every day there's no reason for me to make a statement.

About three weeks ago, Ellen put me on a diet. She's been threatening this for months now, and the vet even e-mailed a suggested food scheme. But it took E so long to actually implement it that I assumed she'd forgotten. Not so lucky. Now, half my food comprises these disgusting diet pellets. They look like my normal food, but they are no more than a 'cheap' imitation. Yuck. I have to eat them, or else I'll starve, but I don't notice any weight coming off yet! (Not that I'm in any way fat, or anything.)

The week before last, we went back to the eye specialist. You know, the one who wants to yank my eye out? Well, I did NOT want to go there, and I made sure E knew it. She was so certain I would be good so long as she fed me before we went, but I wasn't falling for that again. To make it even more worthwhile, the vet had students witness my examination, and I'm not sure they'd ever encountered such a devilcat as I. Ha Ha! I showed them! Hiss, spit, scratch. In the end they had to wrap me up in a towel. (I didn't like that so much.)

Here's a photo of my eye -- the one that changed colour. I'll try to post photos after each examination -- for I have to go back AGAIN in another four months. But at least I get to keep my eye for the time being. The specialist vets are fascinated by my eye, and have evidently been asking other opinions in on-line vet chatrooms. Cool huh?

But do you know how off-putting it is hearing people talk about ripping your eye out? As though it was a splinter or something! I mean REALLY! This is my EYE we're talking about!

Suffering from an Evil Eye

It's been a while since I've posted -- sorry about that. Truth is, life has been trucking along nicely. I had another night home alone and I'm starting to get used to the whirring, speaking, food contraption. Sometimes I think who needs Ellen when I've got that?

Except I do need Ellen. Today's rather sobering experience has brought it all home.

We visited the opthamologist this evening. Ellen has been going on and on about my left eye, which has changed colour over the past year or so. Maybe longer. I haven't thought much of it, but we asked Dr Caroline to look at it when we visited last month and she recommended we visit a specialist.

So today we saw Dr Chloe. And now it seems as though it might be something serious after all. Or at least it might lead to something serious. Melanoma of the iris - skin cancer of the eye! Dr Chloe says if it changes colour, goes darker, I might even need to have my eye removed!

What can you say to something like that? How would I go with only one eye? I've heard that cats can't judge distance when they only have eye. This makes leaping onto things hard. (It's hard when you're carrying a bit of extra weight as well!) And probably Ellen would make me stay inside all day, or maybe build me a cat run, instead of being able to go in and out as I choose. But maybe it would be OK . . .

There is a worse scenario of course, but let's not think about that.

I will add, however, that despite these devastating tidings, I behaved beautifully at the eye doctor today. Only one half-hearted swipe and a faint growl. Other than that, I was placid and very very very good. Dr Chloe might actually even like me. (I think it's far too late to make friends with Dr Caroline . . . I really did behave so very badly last time I saw her.)

Ellen is going to take a photo of my eye . . . I'll post it here when it's ready. Will keep you updated on the saga of my evil eye in true devilcat fashion. Is this karma?

Obesity management -- not!

Things are definitely afoot at the moment, and not in a good way. I've just found out that Dr C and E are colluding on my diet.

It seems that E is actually feeding me not-very-much-at-all (I could have told you that!) so the actual amount that I'm to eat isn't to be reduced at all (thanks to the cat gods). Instead, in order to lose weight (~1/2 kg), I've apparently got to have "royal canin obesity management" food mixed in with my urinary food.

What the --? OBESITY? I am NOT obese!

This is all Ellen's fault. She was the one who asked Dr C if she thought I was fat. And Ellen is the one who has clearly not been encouraging me to do enough exercise. It's her responsibility, not mine.

All this, and I've just been stuck at home alone for 24 hours as well. My life absolutely sucks.

Behaving badly at the vet

It was just getting to the point when I was sure E had forgotten about my annual vet appointment. Somewhat remarkably for me, I hadn't been subjected to the trauma in over a year, and I was quite happy to keep it that way. But no, she had to remember.

She put me in a bad mood to start with because she didn't feed me as soon as she got home. She oughta know that I require sustenance the moment she arrives. It's been all day, and I'm starving. After all, she doesn't go all day without eating.

So then she stuffs me into the cage and I know something's up. She doesn't have a suitcase, so I know we're not going to the island (thanks to the cat gods). So where then? Oh $#*&, the VET!

First up there's a stupid teeny weeny pug-faced dog yapping at me in the waiting room. That didn't help my mood. It made me grumpy and irritable.

Oh all right, it made me foul. I was absolutely the devilcat from hell.

But no self-respecting feline should ever put up with being prodded and poked and having a light shone in your eyes and jabbed with a big needle and weighed -- how humiliating!

So I growled and I hissed and I scratched and I spat and I growled and I hissed and I scratched and I spat and I . . .

Dr C will probably never talk to me again.

As punishment, she has recommended E take me to an eye specialist AND go on a diet.

#$*&%!!!

There is nothing wrong with my eyes, thank you very much, I can see perfectly well. So what if one of them has changed colour? It still works. (Seems Dr C thinks I should have something called a bilateral retinal exam.) The strange thing is that it seems to have little to do with the colour-change.

And as for the diet . . . well all I can say is that E has tried that before . . . she keeps threatening me with a diet, but never follows through. She's shown she's extremely susceptible to my 'pleading' when it comes to food.

I've got her wound around my little finger.

Bet I can make her forget about the eye doctor. Whoever heard of an animal opthamologist anyway?

PS: For once no urinary issues -- woo hoo!

Struck down by mouse spirits

I'm not feeling too good today. I haven't eaten anything at all, not even breakfast, and I've spent the entire day under the sofa, hiding from mouse spirits. Every now and again I see one of these mouse spirits and I chase it, only to realise it doesn't really exist, then I hide underneath the sofa again. I feel queasy and faint.

Oh dear lord catgod, if I promise not to kill any more mice, will you ask the spirits to leave me alone?

Get well soon, Fox

We heard today that Lita's feline friend Fox is very ill. He may need me to donate some blood (gulp), but I'll do it if he needs me to. I've never met Fox, but we correspond from time to time through Ellen and Lita. I consider him and Niles my friends.

Get well soon, Fox. We're thinking of you.

My cry is heard!

Someone has finally heard me! That Scribbly is an absolute champion. Friend for life. Almost as good as Cheeky.

See Scribbly's letter to me here.

I am considering her suggestion that I save for an airfare to attend Madame Adelaide Bonfamille's mansion in Paris, which has been set up as a cat refuge/resort/spa (for unwanted, undeserved and maltreated cats). I will research the topic.

PS - Dear Scribbly, thanks for your letter! It's nice to have someone on my side for once. I'm going to make Ellen rent out the Aristocats movie, because I have never even seen it!

Getting on top of things

It's been a tough week and a half, but I think I'm on top of things now. The pills have stopped and I haven't urinated inappropriately for a few days. (Ellen seems to be talking to me again.)

Pushing the boundaries

In the past couple of days I have weed on Ellen's digital scales (that'll teach her to tell me I'm fat!) and on the floor beside the couch. She is still making me take a pill everyday -- although I think today is the last day.

Oh, and I also threw up all my food and a hairball.

It's been fun watching Ellen crawl around the floor every evening, nose to the floor, paper towel in hand, searching for my latest deposit. I think she's getting a bit sick of it though. If I don't watch myself, I might find myself booted out of home!

But I don't really think she'll do that, because when she's not grumbling, she's giving me cuddles, and telling me I'm beautiful.

That's when I attack her hand!

A smelly welcome

Today I weed on the floor at the front door. Needless to say, Ellen was not happy. I don't know what's wrong with me :-(

I also had a bit of a stoush with the ginger cat. He's so much bigger than me, but I reckon I can get him! Ellen tells me not to be so stupid.

She is still making me take a pill every day.

Sleepyhead

Still not feeling great today. This new food is taking some getting used to as well. All I seem to want to do is sleep.

From bad to worse

I did it again. No sooner had we posted the previous entry on Thursday evening, than I did it again. Weed on the rug. Ellen has never sworn at me as she did that night.

I felt awful.

I truly did feel awful . . . there was blood in my urine and it was painful. I half expected to be whisked off to the vet the next day -- that's the usual pattern. But for once I was saved the trauma. Friday passed uncomfortably, but uneventfully . . .

This morning I weed on the floor at the foot of Ellen's bed (and I think her runners might have been in the way). I couldn't help it. I just felt so awful and Ellen needed to know how bad I felt. That's why I did it somewhere obvious.

She seemed to take it better this morning. Cleaned it up then got on the phone and went out for the morning. I thought I was safe. But then she suddenly came home and got the carry cage down and then we were at the vet!

Damn and blast, I HATE going to the vet. We saw Dr Jenny today. I've seen her a few times in the past when I've had bladder problems. (For some reason I seem to get this all the time.) They talked about me as though I wasn't even in the room. Dr Jenny seemed to think it could be stress related. Ellen wondered whether it was because she kept leaving me home alone all the time (yeah - I hope she goes on believing that) and Dr Jenny wondered whether it was due to my battles with the invaders up and down the driveway. She's cluey that Dr Jenny. She noticed the slight wound on my nose where ginger must have landed a swipe, and drew her own conclusions. (However, my battles make me feel exhilarated, not stressful. Go figure.)

Then she jabbed me with a needle THREE TIMES. It turns out I was duped into having vaccinations as well. When we got home, Ellen made me take a pill.

I have spent the rest of the day in quiet contemplation. Going to the vet really takes it out of you!

Now it turns out I have to have special food to try to prevent my urinary tract infection from happening again. I confess I too would be pleased if we could rid me of this weakness. The new food tastes OK. And it should be nice to have something different for a change. I wonder how it'll fit in with my so-called diet?

Driveway daydreaming

Feeling better today. Have eaten most of my food.

For the first time in months I slept on my cushion by the window. It's an excellent spot -- incredibly comfortable and provides an excellent vantage point for looking down the driveway. For the past four years it's been my favourite spot in all the world. I can't think why I've avoided it recently. It was wonderful to be back.

I was there when Ellen came home today. It allowed me to witness the most delicious incident when she almost ran over both the ginger cat and white fluffball. Oh the joy, the rapture! But, alas, she drove slowly and those stupid animals (which were sauntering down the middle of the driveway) finally deigned to saunter out of the way.

One day, ESP will work.

Life sucks

Life sucks at the moment. I don't feel well. I can't eat. Last night I vomited, and this morning my bowels . . . well, let's just say they're not up to scratch and everything is runny.

Ellen keeps asking me if I'm all right. Can't she see I'm NOT? I try to explain exactly how terrible I'm feeling, and all she does is rattle the food bowl and ask me why I'm not eating. Can't she see I'm NOT HUNGRY?

Well, she wanted me on a diet . . .

And now there's an intruder in my garden so I can't even go outside. I think I'll just sulk inside for the rest of the day.

Hot and bothered

The past couple of days have been so HOT, that I've hardly had the heart to eat. I've spent most of the day sprawled out on the cool floorboards. I keep thinking I should eat, but when I look at it I feel like throwing up. This morning I did throw up, but it was a hairball.

I think I might be suffering from heatstroke or something. I hope I feel better tomorrow.