We Won The Battle, But Lost The War

At the end of November 2023, I noticed that our Old Man Cat, Desmond (Dez for short) was having problems eating. He would join the other cats for their morning treats, but after a couple of bites he would hiss and run away. A trip to the vet later, he was diagnosed with feline stomatitis. The vet warned us that there would be no curing the stomatitis, we would just be working to manage his symptoms and keep him eating and pain-free as long as possible. Treatment consisted of a steroid injection and an antibiotic injection. So, with two shots onboard, we began a six month long journey.

Dez responded well to his first shots and I began supplementing his dry food with wet food designed for senior cats. By early January 2024, he was showing new signs of avoiding food. We went back to the vet for a new round of shots and he responded marvelously. We made it to the end of February before he had another flare-up. This flare-up was by far the worst and it took two weeks for his shots to make a difference. In the meantime, I was still supplementing his dry food with wet, sometimes reverting to all wet food. This process sort of took on a life of its own. Not only did I have to feed Dez, but I had to keep the rest of the cats away while he ate. Sometimes I felt like I was a goalie at some sort of weird cat hockey game.

Old Man Dez

In early April, I saw small signs that a flare-up was beginning so we got more shots in the hopes of heading it off before it got too bad. This was especially important as we were due to go out of town and I was the only one Dez would allow to give him his canned food. (He wouldn’t even let Kenn feed him so there was no way the pet sitter would be able to do so.) Fortunately, Dez was able to eat dry food until we returned from our trip, but quickly lost the ability to do so after our return home. The vet had recommended that we try giving Dez oral steroids instead of injections, but that was a no-go. I might have been able to get one pill down him but he would’ve then been so traumatized that we wouldn’t have seen him again.

With each shot being a little less effective than the one before, I knew we were living on borrowed time. Over the past couple of weeks, Dez began struggling to eat his wet food. I started mixing it with water to thin it out and hopefully help him hydrate. (He was dehydrated when we went in for his April shots.) We went to the doctor on Monday and discussed our options. The only remaining course of action – and the vet wasn’t a fan of this choice – was to remove all of his teeth except his canines. This is a lengthy surgery and recovery, but it provides the best chance of long-term relief. However, due to his age (15), Kenn and I were unwilling to put Dez through so much trauma. The vet offered us a dose of a topical opiod that should help relieve his pain. I agreed to try it in the hopes that he could have a few pain-free, or at least less painful, days. It was a disaster. We expected Dez to be a little stoned, and he was. I fed him as soon as we got home, but as the medication kicked in, he kind of freaked out. Poor guy started trying to hide, and worst of all, the other cats started going after him. Tuesday morning, he was still in hiding and still freaked out. He also refused to eat. Every time the poor guy tried to come out of hiding, one of the others would chase him back. It was at this point that Kenn helped me realize that the time to let him go had arrived. I knew it was coming, but I had been fighting so hard for so many months that it was kind of hard to admit that the time was finally here. Sadly, our last attempt to make his life better actually made it worse. So, Tuesday morning, we went back to the vet, had Dez euthanized, and then took his body to the pet funeral home to have him cremated. His ashes will join the ashes of all of our other cats that have passed before.

Right now, I am mentally and emotionally drained and am in need of a really good cry. And ice cream. I desperately need ice cream. I try to end each post with a question, but today, I got nothin’. Instead, please do me favor and give your furbabies extra hugs and pets from me today.

Well, That Was Easier Than I Expected

Y’all know I’m a cat lady. Kenn and I have always had a mixture of both indoor and outdoor cats. There were always a lot of un-neutered feral cats in our old neighborhood. Since we always had food out for any critter (cats, dogs, possums, whatever) that needed it, it wasn’t unusual for mama cats to bring their kittens to us to show them a food source. Over the years we socialized and spayed/neutered countless mamas and kittens. Any that wanted to make their home with us were welcome, but they had to remain outside with occasional forays inside for some.

When we moved to The Cabin several years ago, we brought three outdoor cats with us: Nellie, Marvin, and Roscoe. We “inherited” an additional one since Stumpie was already hanging around when we moved in. However, being an outdoor cat comes with any number of hazards. We lost Roscoe to a systemic infection due to an injury; he was so aloof, we didn’t even know there was a problem until it was too late. We lost both Stumpie and Marvin last summer which left Nellie as our only official outdoor cat. Over the past few months, all of the extra cats that had started hanging around have moved on with the exception of Ghost, who is getting a little braver. However, having Nellie outdoors by herself has been killing me. Girlfriend is now thirteen years old and I couldn’t help but feel that she was a little lonely without Stumpie and Marvin.

Outdoor Nellie

Our previous attempts to move Nellie indoors hadn’t gone well, so I was a little leery of trying again even though I knew the move was in her best interest. However, things came to a head last Saturday. I was petting Nellie when I noticed an issue with with her right eye; it was cloudy and slightly enlarged. A closer inspection revealed damage to the cornea so, moving her inside became paramount. After a brief discussion, Kenn positioned one of our larger pet carriers under the carport so it would be there when an opportunity presented itself. I went out and spent fifteen minutes or so petting Nellie and then picked her up. She was never thrilled about being held, but much to my surprise, she allowed it. Even more surprising, I was able to walk her over to the carrier, place her inside, and shut the door without her freaking out. As far as I am concerned, it was a miracle!

Indoor Nellie

Nellie is now sharing my office with Molly, who is both my mewse and another senior citizen. (Molly is fifteen.) Things were a little tense the first couple of days, but are going better now. Nellie went to the vet on Monday and is now receiving an antibiotic ointment on her eye twice a day. We go back to the vet next Monday to find out how we proceed. More antibiotics? Surgery? Either way, she is now indoors and safe from marauding dogs, cars, etc.

On another note, are you familiar with the Nat Geo Wild show Critter Fixers: Country Vets? Those are our vets! Dr. Hodges and Dr. Ferguson are both great, as are the other vets and techs on their team. I guess using their veterinary services is one of my brief brushes with fame. Tell me about your brushes with fame!

I Missed the Memo

Okay, y’all. What the fox is going on with gas station etiquette? Apparently a memo went out seven or eight months ago – I can’t be more specific about the time frame since I didn’t get a copy – and states that it is now socially acceptable to leave your vehicle unattended at the gas pumps while you wander inside the associated store for a shopping spree or meal. As what seems to be the lone dissenting voice crying in the wilderness, I beg you, for the love of all that’s polite… please don’t do this!

After months of frustration with getting trapped at pumps, an eye-opening conversation with our son and daughter-in-law may have shed some light on the thinking behind this “trend.” We were at dinner with the kids and venting our frustration at, once again, getting trapped behind a vehicle. The kids glanced at each other and then admitted “We do that too.” They then hurried to add, “But, only if other pumps are available.” I have to admit, I temporarily lost my power of speech, which was probably a good thing – it meant I couldn’t yell, LOL. Once I was able to form words, I explained that it’s not a matter of if any other pumps are available, it’s whether anyone can get to those pumps around you, and more importantly, can anyone behind you get out?

Image from depositphotos.com

Winding your way between vehicles “abandoned” at random gas pumps may be easy when you drive a small car; when you drive a Toyota Tundra, not so much. When said Tundra is pulling a travel trailer, even less so. Those of us driving RVs or towing travel trailers don’t have the luxury of backing up from a pump at a busy travel center, at least not without risking serious problems and possible (probable) accidents.

The worst incident was at a small travel center (I think it was a Pilot) the morning of the last leg of our trip home on our 2023 road trip. We pulled up to a pump, and there was a car at the pump ahead of us. We didn’t immediately notice that no one was pumping gas, and when we did, we just assumed they had run inside to get a receipt or something. After a few minutes, two teenagers came out of the convenience store and climbed into the back seat. Grandma then got out of the passenger seat and headed inside. Now, it takes a few minutes to fill up a thirty-eight gallon gas tank, but even after that amount of time, no driver appeared. I got out and took a picture of the license plate, intending to go inside and have the driver paged. While I was doing that, Kenn handled it with a phone call. In a few minutes, an annoyed lady walked by carrying a bag and drink from the fast food store inside the store. She seemed to be embarrassed about having been paged, but I felt no sympathy; at this point, we had been finished and unable to leave for somewhere between ten and fifteen minutes. Did Embarrassed Woman move into one of the six or more parking spaces easily available from her location? She did not. Kenn went and knocked on her window and asked her to please move as we would like to leave and had been trapped behind her car for some time. What was she doing? SHE WAS EATING HER SANDWICH. WHILE STILL SITTING AT THE 🤬 PUMP! She got huffy, but she moved.

We had a similar incident a few days ago at a small Love’s travel center. We pulled in behind a car, which I initially thought was empty, but then saw someone in the driver’s seat. We filled up and were ready to leave only to be unable to do so. Why? Rude Dude was just sitting there scrolling on his phone while there were several easily available parking spaces in front of him. Fortunately, other vehicles left the pumps next to us so we were able to do some jockeying and get around him – without hitting him with our travel trailer – but, geez. Just move your car, people!

Even though I’ve only highlighted a couple of incidents we’ve had several over the last few months. Maybe I’m too Southern for my own good, but I can’t figure out why so many (including my kids, apparently) suddenly think this behavior is okay.

Have you gotten trapped at a gas pump?