Jack’s Pack

Just a few days ago, just for fun, I launched a new Facebook page in honor of my furbabies. I thought why the heck not? Some friends and relatives have told me they enjoy reading about my cats and love seeing photos. Maybe they’re just being nice! Ha! Doesn’t matter… I’m having fun doing it and I’m always looking for ways to be creative. Besides, cat pages are all the rage on facebook!

If you’re interested, and it’s ok if you’re not, you’re welcome to check out “Jack’s Pack” at https://www.facebook.com/jackspackoftrouble and let me know what you think. I hope you like it and if you have any suggestions, I’m always open.

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Oh, and if you haven’t checked out Being Aunt Debbie on Facebook, please do! I’d love to connect with you!

Thanks bunches,

Aunt Debbie

Another Ordeal

It’s been quite an emotional weekend for me. On Friday, Jack got sick. He was coughing and his breathing was strained. His respirations were higher than they should be and his breathing was odd. By Saturday, I didn’t know if he would make it. I cried most of the day. By Sunday, I was preparing myself to say goodbye. I didn’t know if he would make it to the vet on Monday if I could even get him in that day. I didn’t know if I would get him help in time to save him or if I would be too late and be forced to put him down. There was another obstacle, too. The road conditions weren’t very good in many places. Our vet is 30 miles away and they had some severe ice accumulation. Would the roads be so bad I wouldn’t be able to take him? My heart was breaking.

Now a little history on Jack. He was a stray and of course, I rescued him. I have a soft spot for cats. I can’t help it. Based on the fact that he didn’t mark his territory inside or outside, I figured his age to be no more than 6 months old. I quickly had him neutered.

Within the first year, we noticed Jack had this dry, hacking cough (but not very often) as if he were trying to hack up a hairball, with no results. Then my Dad noticed that his breathing was different than the other cats. His chest would rise with each breath but then his abdomen would rise quickly behind, as his chest fell. It was odd and I had never seen this before.

Our vet (at that time) didn’t seem concerned, stating he “probably just had allergies” because after all “cats can have allergies, too” she told me. I know that, but I have never seen allergies do this to a cat and I’ve had so many cats in my lifetime it would make your head spin. Jack had episodes before (much like this current episode) but they were always short lived. He always snapped out of it quickly but I was always worried.

When he was in that catfight just before Christmas, he was put on antibiotics. The entire course of the antibiotics he had no coughing fits. His breathing seemed very close to normal. I realized this at nearly the end of the treatment. Within 2 days of treatment’s end, he was coughing again and then this episode followed a few days later.

So, now my head was spinning with thoughts I couldn’t stop. Fear, worry, sadness, and GRIEF set in. Unimaginable grief to have to put down yet another beloved cat! I did some research. Based on Jack’s symptoms, I surmised he had what is called a diaphragmatic hernia. I was almost certain. Surgery to repair such a hernia can range anywhere from $1,200 – $2,000, depending on the area. How the hell am I supposed to come up with that kind of money? I would have to open a Go Fund Me page without a doubt. I would have to plead with my friends and family to donate, and if they couldn’t donate then to please share on social media. I needed to save Jack’s life. I needed to have a plan.

Monday morning, I called the vet 20 minutes before they even opened for business. They had no appointments open. I was crushed. The gal on the phone was sweet and told me to bring Jack in at the end of the day, about 4p. Of course, I jumped on that idea and although I was unhappy Jack would have to wait for a little longer, at least he was going to be seen! About an hour later, our 4p appointment got bumped up to 11a. I was so happy!

Upon arrival, they took us into an exam room and it wasn’t long before Dr. Missy came in. I explained the situation and Jack’s symptoms. I even showed her a video of Jack’s coughing attack and another clip of his breathing. She said that I was right to be concerned about a diaphragmatic hernia based on those symptoms but she said from last month’s x-rays, she didn’t see evidence of that. To make sure she didn’t miss anything, she took a couple more x-rays.

I am elated to report that I was wrong about my diagnosis! All of Jack’s internal organs were exactly where they should be. There was no evidence of any kind of hernia. His lungs were a different story. They were spotted and inflamed, and Dr. Missy said it looked like this was putting pressure against his windpipe, which was causing the cough. She also said we can’t rule out allergies, as our previous vet had suggested but whatever the allergen was had triggered a major reaction/infection in the lungs.

Jack got a fast-acting antibiotic injection, along with oral antibiotics and a steroid to follow up for 10 days at home. I noticed Jack feeling much better as soon as we got home! His breathing had stabilized and his cough subsided…for longer periods of time in between anyway.

We will have to go back in 2 weeks to recheck his lungs and we may have to continue the steroids off and on for the rest of his life, depending on whether this “thing” goes completely away or not. He’s had this going on for most of his life and had gone untreated because our previous vet didn’t think it was serious. So, now it’s a waiting game.

Jack has become such a mama’s boy since we got him. Of course, he won’t be too happy with me when he learns he will never step foot outside again. For two reasons: I want to protect him from that mean ol’ stray puddy tat and he has cost us over $500, not counting the bill for recheck in two weeks! He’s too expensive a cat to let outside! He will have to be happy with the catio!

Finally, I can say I have my Jack back!

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Image Copyright Being Aunt Debbie

Bullseye

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This past week has been a busy one. With Christmas baking and (a little) decorating, also came a big veterinary bill.

The Thursday before Christmas, Jack came in from his usual daily outing with a bloody foot and more damage than I first thought. I’m pretty sure he tangled with a stray cat. He was obviously in some pain and favoring both legs on his right side. I was especially concerned about the front leg because he was not bearing weight on it at all. I thought maybe something was broken or dislocated. I was lucky enough to get an appointment the very next day – I didn’t want him to suffer through the holidays. I knew it would be at the very least the Wednesday right after Christmas before I could get him in again. So off we went to the vet.

We have been to this vet clinic several times and have only seen the one vet, Dr. Missy. She wasn’t available that day so we got to see Dr. Ritchie. This Dr. Ritchie was old and seemed like he should be retired, in my opinion. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not against people working well into their 80’s but he just didn’t seem to know what he was doing.

First, I told Dr. Ritchie about my concerns. He felt of the legs. I had to point out all the wounds because he couldn’t find them. That’s not all he couldn’t find. He went to take Jack’s temperature and was holding Jack’s tail up and poking around back there… After a couple of minutes, I asked, “Is there a problem back there?” Dr. Ritchie said, “No. I just can’t find the bullseye,” and it wasn’t until he took his glasses OFF that he found it. Poor Jack probably wondered what the fuck that strange man was doing back there.

Jack got an antibiotic injection at my request because it’s hard for me to give meds with my mobility issues. So, home we went but I wasn’t feeling too confident about Jack’s condition.

The day after Christmas, I called and got another appointment. This time with another vet I was not familiar with. Dr. Missy was booked. We saw her husband instead. He seemed to have his noodle in working order. Jack had no broken bones or dislocated joints, thank goodness. However, there was one wound located in the crook of his elbow – if that’s what it’s called in feline anatomy, I don’t know but close enough – where the muscle had been punctured resulting in so much pain he wouldn’t bear weight. We ended up with 4 x-rays, an anti-inflammatory fast-dissolve pill, and another antibiotic – in liquid form, yay. Why so many x-rays, you may be wondering? Jack has an oddly formed clavicle unlike any other the vet had seen before so he wanted to make sure it was the same on the other side. It was. I just have a weird cat. Another weird cat, I should say.

It’s been hell trying to give that cat his meds! I can’t believe how strong he is! But we are getting the meds in him and he is finally starting to bear weight again. He uses it some, he limps a little, and then he’s back to hopping with that one foot up. It’s progress. He’s becoming more and more restless each day. He wants back outside and he doesn’t know it yet but he will be an inside cat only from now on.

 

The Escape

Last night was an interesting night. It started off like any other night. I was crocheting as Dad and I watched the new FBI series. At one point I heard an odd noise and tilted my ear toward the back of the house. Dad asked if I heard something and I told him I had, but that I couldn’t be sure what it was. It wasn’t a worrisome noise and I didn’t hear it again, so it was forgotten.

Fast forward to around 12:40am. I was still watching tv and crocheting. It was actually more crocheting and listening to the tv. All of a sudden, I hear something jump onto the window a/c by the window where I sat. I thought, Oh crap. Another stray cat. I moved the curtain to the side slowly so not to frighten this stray cat, and lo and behold it was NOT a stray cat after all. It was Jack!

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Jack comes in at 4pm feeding time and he is not allowed to go back outside because he’s such an asshole to get back in before dark. So, he WAS inside. As I got up to let him in, I asked him, “How the hell did you get outside?” Of course, he didn’t tell me. He thought it best if I figure it out for myself!

My first thought was that he must’ve found a way out of the “catio.” Sure enough, a quick look with the flashlight showed the exact spot where he made his escape. It’s not the best enclosure but it keeps my furbabies safe at night from coyotes and other such terrifying creatures of the night. Of course, if a bear wanted a cat bad enough he could easily rip that catio plumb off its base. But by then the cats would have all scattered back into the house and under my bed.

 

So, what’s a cat-mom to do? I couldn’t do anything about it that late and in the dark so I blocked off the cat door where they couldn’t go out there at all. I didn’t want Jack to escape again as I knew he would if given the chance. I knew Kitty wouldn’t even attempt to escape as she rarely goes out on the catio, and I knew Honey couldn’t escape even if she wanted to because she’s just too damn fat to climb up to the opening. Alice is another story. I didn’t know if she would try or not. I didn’t know if she would follow Jack, and I’d never find her in the dark. (She’s black as night.) Besides, she’s the best cat I have and I would die if she got lost in the woods. So, none of them got to go out on the catio.

That didn’t go over well. Alice and Jack meowed and scratched until after 1am until they finally gave it up and went to sleep next to me. It took putting the vacuum cleaner next to the blocked opening to get their little furry butts settled down!

Oh, and that odd noise I heard earlier? I think it might have been Jack forcing his way through that opening in the wire. I checked him over pretty good to make sure he didn’t hurt himself and there was no blood or bones poking out. He got lucky. If I had gone to bed before he jumped up on the a/c, then I’d have never known he was out in the scary dark!

They are happier now that Dad repaired the hole, even though it’s raining today. They go out under the board or in the shelter and they’re good to go.

My silly (yet annoying) little furbabies, how I love them so.