Litterbug

While we were stopped at a red light yesterday, I patted Rebel's back and happened to feel a small lump. Instinctively, with no hesitation and without even looking, I leaned over and pulled out the dog tick attached to Rebel, just as the light changed green. I do not recommend anyone doing this while driving, especially since one needs to be careful to remove the tick's head along with its body. But I have removed more than my share of ticks over the years, and I can do so blindfolded, so to speak. Anyway, with two of my fingers, I found myself holding a live tick which had Rebel's flesh in its mouth. I was not about to hold the tick, with its rapidly moving tiny legs, the six additional miles we had to travel home. So I opened my car window and flung the tick onto the road. I do not condone littering, but this case was an exception--after all, the litter was literally a bug. (Don't mind me, I am having a bout of insomnia this week and, hence, I am attributing this feeble attempt at humor to sleep deprivation.)

Incidentally, Rebel and I had been returning from the vet's office yesterday at the time of the tick incident. Rebel is on antibiotics again. Now it is because of an abscess; Rebel appears to have had an allergic reaction caused by an insect bite--either that or it's an infection due to excessive licking after some minor injury. I, however, am convinced it was a spider bite which caused the allergic reaction. I do not remember the exact day, but I do recall seeing Rebel step into a web with his left front paw in the garage. I also distinctly recall that a shiny black spider disappeared from the web when Rebel jumped into the car in the garage. I did check Rebel's paw afterwards, but I saw no evidence that he had been bitten. That was a number of days ago. And since Rebel has been exhibing no symptoms of any kind which would lead me to think a visit to the vet's office might be warranted, I was truly surprised to see the abscess on Rebel's left front paw yesterday morning. Actually, it looks more like a gigantic water blister between his toes. Okay, even if that particular spider in the garage did not bite him, I still think Rebel was probably bitten by some spider because they abound here in the woods. As for Rebel, he is doing just fine.

Saddle Thrombus

As usual when I woke up one morning, I was greeted by cats jumping on the bed; only Quentin was not among my usual morning greeters. Turning over in bed, I saw Quentin lying next to me, staring at me, only not really seeing me--it looked as if he were staring beyond me, a deathlike stare which, needless to say, frightened me. He was alive but silent and unresponsive to my touch. I believed he was literally at death's door and that it was too late to do anything, so I started to say my good-byes, but as I started speaking, I changed my good-byes to telling Quentin, who had never been ill a moment in his life, that he could fight whatever this was because he comes from a strong line of feral cats. I do not know whether my words had any influence or whether it was all due to Rebel's jumping on the bed, almost on top of Quentin, which caused Quentin to spring back to life and off the bed. Quentin was moving slowly, and he had a hard time using his hind legs. He had lost the ability to jump up; his hind legs appeared somewhat paralyzed.

Making a long story short, I thought Quentin looked much better before we reached the vet's office. The vet thought it was probably saddle thrombus, which meant that my two-year-old cat had a blocked blood supply to his hind legs. From what I have read about thromboembolism and, in this case, saddle thrombus, the prognosis is terrible. And I quote, it is something of a miracle if a cat recovers from saddle thrombus. This occurred on June 3, 2010, and I was prepared to have this be the summer of taking care of Quentin, the way last summer had been the summer of taking care of Ponzo. But believe it or not, Quentin was miraculously back to his old self three days later, before he even finished taking half of his medicine, which I was able to give him in canned catfood, something he has always refused to eat in the past. Actually, I had noticed a marked improvement in Quentin on day two, when I saw him watching Karma and obviously wishing he could chase her. On day three, he did just that. By day four, there was no sign that anything had been wrong with Quentin.

It has been exactly one month now since Quentin became suddenly and mysteriously ill. He is fine now, but since the condition can recur if it was indeed saddle thrombus, I watch Quentin, our happy, vocal, lively boy, for any signs of the condition.

I did ask the vet if it could have been a widow spider bite, which is usually fatal to small cats, and he did say it was a possibility. I guess I shall never know, but I do know Quentin did not have anything contagious because of the shared food, water, and litterboxes; no one else got sick. I am still inclined to blame a spider.

Arachnophobia

This photo has been cropped and enlarged several times. Even though the spider appeared willing to be photographed, I was unwilling to get too close to it. But this is approximately the actual size of the spider running loose in my garage. And although it would fit inside my humane bug trap, the thought of getting that close to this spider--well, it was just way too icky! The technical term for my avoidance.

I purchased the humane bug trap, shortly after I had a monstrous wood spider enter the house a few years ago. Incidentally, that wood spider would not have fit inside the trap. I am not exaggerating. I used a vacuum cleaner hose to trap that monster. And then I quickly took the vacuum cleaner outside, placing it on my porch, where it remained for several months. Again, I am not exaggerating. I have more than one vacuum cleaner, you see. Fortunately, my arachnophobia has gotten better over the years--otherwise, I do not think I would have lasted living in the woods this long.

Relocated Spider

If you want to live and thrive, let the spider run alive.--Proverb, mid-nineteenth century

Have humane spider trap, will travel. This spider decided to hang around my deck, which would have been okay, if not for the fact that he insisted on hanging around my doorway. Literally. Since I have no desire whatsoever to have a spider land on me--even if it is by accident, I relocated him to some wild plants at the edge of the woods. I observed the spider for a while, and he seemed quite satisfied in his new location.

"Where Is My Chicken Soup?"

Ponzo was a relatively healthy-looking cat throughout the entire month of August. That is, until last Friday. By Saturday morning, Ponzo was running a slight fever, which meant his body was trying to fight the FIV, and I played nurse again. The good news is that the fever broke on Sunday, and Ponzo decided to eat on his own soon afterwards. After drinking some water, he inspected his four food bowls. Ignoring the bowl filled with dry catfood, Ponzo walked up to an empty bowl, which happened to be his designated chicken soup bowl. I did not have to be fluent in any feline dialect to understand Ponzo's disapproving gaze, questioning me, "Where is my chicken soup?"

This morning, Ponzo is waiting impatiently for his chicken soup, which I just took out of the freezer. He is doing much better, although he is not playing with any of his toys--yet.

On July 3, I was told that there is no way of predicting Ponzo's future: maybe he will be around for a couple more years, or maybe he will be gone by the end of this summer. In July, I had believed the latter, but then in the month of August, Ponzo seemed to be well on the road to recovery. Yes, I know there is no cure for FIV, which is why I believed he had been bitten by a black widow spider. The point I am trying to make is that Ponzo has a strong spirit, which gives me hope.

Ponzo's Spasms

When Ponzo came home from the animal hospital in July, it had been barely noticeable that he was favoring his left hind leg, which he did not want me to touch, although I insisted. Physically, his leg appeared fine, other than being perhaps a little swollen, but Ponzo kept favoring it more and more. Four days later, Ponzo started having muscle coordination difficulty and mobility problems. He staggered whenever he walked.

The night of July 7 was a long one for both of us. Ponzo had his first muscle spasm or mini-seizure sometime toward morning, after he and I had both finally dozed off together. I was suddenly awakened when one of Ponzo's paws attached itself to my right arm, but I kept my eyes closed because I wanted to remain calm as I reassured Ponzo that it was okay. I believed he was on the verge of falling off the bed, so time was of the essence; my goal was to keep Ponzo from falling, with minimal damage to my arm. Although it seemed much longer, I am sure it took only seconds for me to detach his paw from my limb. Barely a mark, quite surprisingly! Later that day, however, I got a claw accidentally embedded in my right cheek, and that was followed by claws in my arms, one at a time. That is how long it took me to learn to get out of the way of Ponzo's occasional, uncontrollable leg movements. Finally, I was able to keep my eyes open and observe. Ponzo was always conscious and never appeared to be in any pain during these episodes, which I now refer to as muscle spasms. Musculoskeletal spasms?

Less than a week later, Ponzo was doing much better, although he walked on wobbly legs. Then the spasms started again. Ponzo would flop over, but he was always alert and responsive. Ponzo even had a couple of good days before July 25, when I read him his last rites, so to speak. But throughout it all, I sensed that Ponzo had a very strong will to live and that he was happy to be living indoors. Aside from my intuition, I had been doing a lot of research, and I suspected that it might be something other than FIV which was causing Ponzo's horrible spasms, such as when his right paw would suddenly go over his head. Especially when I saw that Ponzo had recovered miraculously on the morning of July 26. Why, and how, did the spasms just suddenly disappear?

I believe that Ponzo may have been bitten by a black widow spider. I have read that most black widow bites are fatal to small cats. Those that do survive are lucky, needless to say, for it takes about a month for the poison to work out of a cat's system. And black widow bites do cause spasms. I was told later that it has something to do with calcium. Spider bite or no spider bite, Ponzo did very well for an entire month after his last spasm.

A Dreary Day

This morning I was reminded that the end of August is the beginning of spider web season. When I stepped onto my deck, I saw numerous dome webs, which had sprung up overnight. They seem to have replaced the funnel webs, which are usually seen all over the deck at this time of year. Plus, there is a very large orb web which reminds me of "Charlotte's web." However, none of the webs' inhabitants are anywhere in sight at the present time on this dreary day.

It is also dreary inside the house, since Ponzo is having a bad day. That is, he had been doing great this entire month, until today. Ponzo usually runs to greet me every morning. Today, however, he merely verbally acknowledged my entrance into the room. He is now sleeping at my feet; he declined an invitation to sleep on my lap. Although he is eating and walking around normally, Ponzo appears listless. I fear he is taking a sudden turn for the worse. Unfortunately, I suppose this is to be expected with FIV.