Kirby is our oldest kitty who has had some health issues most of his life. He blocked so often that the vet advised his penis be removed years ago. He hates the vet’s office (he had been in for catheterization more times than I remember, in the months before his surgery, he was in at least twice a month) and we don’t take him in. Luckily, he’s not had anything really bad going on, just a gradual downhill slide that comes with aging. He’s over seventeen right now, we got him the day before we got Benny so long ago.
Anyway, he’s a special eater. He gets special food that the other cats don’t get. Well, they get it, just added to and watered down in their evening meal. He gets it straight.
In the morning I’ll split a can of Friskies between he and Miss Elizabeth. They eat it in my bathroom on the counter with the door closed so the other cats don’t bother them (bunch of vultures). Well, Kirby has been peeing in my bathroom after he’s done. I spent over an hour cleaning the floor (that funky laminate that Brian really wanted to test out, even though I kept telling him the cats would ruin it…well, they did, I swear you could trip over the seams, but it still needs cleaning until it can be pulled up and something less high maintenance can be put in) and setting up those SSSScat cans of air. They did a great job of keeping the cats from peeing in the corner and behind the toilet, but Kirby started peeing ON the toilet and the urine ended up next to and behind the toilet bowl.
Which is what I didn’t want to happen anymore.
Miss ate in the bathroom, started yowling “I’m done! Let me out” shortly after she’d gone in. Brian let her out, asked “she didn’t eat much, what do you want me to do with the food?” I yelled back “give it to Georgie!” (I was feeding Kirby.) Then she went into the kitchen, walked back out and puked up her breakfast. She went back into the bathroom and started screaming for more food. I gave her a can of Fancy Feast.
So, this morning, I fed Kirby outside of the bathroom. Sitting next to me on the sofa, keeping the other cats away while he ate. This is how he normally eats the rest of the day, he finds me wherever I am, starts yelling at me to feed him and doesn’t stop yelling until I do. Sometimes he gets A/D, sometimes he gets Fancy Feast with human tuna in it. The mornings, though, he gets Friskies with Miss E. He finishes eating, Brian has cooked our breakfast, we eat, we had bacon and although Kirby loves bacon and he did come over to the table, he didn’t show much interest in any. He ate a little piece then just walked off. He climbed back onto the loveseat and started to sleep.
I came back into the office and noticed George didn’t eat much of it, either. Hmm. Placed it on the floor for the other cats, who nommed it right up.
So, Brian has to leave and run some errands, when he’s getting his keys, I see Kirby on the loveseat. Foam is dripping from his mouth. I’ve never, in my life, seen this on a cat who hadn’t just been pilled. I run over to him, wipe his mouth. He’s definitely not feeling well. He tries to stand up, he’s pretty weak. OMG, this is it, we’re losing him, I think. I tell Brian to just go ahead and let Kirby rest. I check his eyes, they’re very dilated. My first thought is Lisa, how her eyes were dilated when she went blind (the same week we lost her). I get a flashlight, shine it into his eyes, the pupil shrinks, he’s not blind. I’ve wiped the foam from his face and give him a few tiny bits of water. He swallows, keeps it down. He’s having a hard time breathing, at least that’s what it looked like. He purrs for me and responds to butt scritches (arching his back). He finally settles down and goes back to sleep. I let him, I creep in every few minutes to watch him breathe. Not labored, completely normal.
Then I see the towel that covers the arm of the loveseat (and the front of it, to prevent scratching). There is puke all the way down it. A little puddle on the floor under the towel. And it dawns on me.
There was something wrong with that can of food. Miss throws it up first, George won’t eat it and then Kirby puked it up (the foam was probably the funky puke taste in his mouth).
Damn it. We’re a quarter of the way into the box and nothing like this happened with any of the others, so I’m hoping it was one bad can.
Poor little Purr Kitty.