Crunchy Thoughts

The thoughts are crunchier here.

renton’s malaise

Well, it’s the end of September. It’s time for an unannounced vet visit for Renton! This September’s visit brought to you by copious amounts of barfing.

The barfing has been going on for a while. In fact, I would announce some sort of complaint about it every now and again on Twitter. However, he has built up to his current level at a slow rate of progression. Recently, I looked at Steven, he looked at me, and we both looked at Renton, the carpet, and the large amount of our budget that goes to paper towels and Spot Shot (buy some, it’s awesome). Despite the MediBulk and his specifically-branded, specifically-flavored, highly-priced cat food, Mr. Renton is blowing chunks once daily.

His favorite spot is in the middle of our master bedroom. The second favorite spot is on top of the couch with all its crevices and close proximity to the wall.

On Monday Steven happened to be working from home when Renton had five retching episodes, all before lunch. No more waiting — vet time.

Renton put on yet another good show at the vet’s office. It was time for his annual shots as well. The vet and vet techs were all impressed by Renton’s temper, despite all his warnings and voodoo curses written on his medical file. The vet told him, “Wow, you’re vicious! You belong in Africa — I’ve seen tigers there tamer than you!”

Unfortunately, the vet couldn’t really examine Renton because of said viciousness — they couldn’t even get a weight on him. The vet decided to rule out the easiest thing to treat — worms — by treating for that. If that doesn’t work, he’ll have to come back in for sedation and more testing.

When Steven told me they treated for worms, I knew that couldn’t be it. Hermione had worms once, and I still remember the horrible diarrhea. Renton, though pooping, still is dropping turds that are the weight of a thousand suns. He would probably appreciate some worms.

This morning as we’re getting ready for work, Renton’s belly gushed forth with more of the same. Thankfully I reacted in time to get him on the hardwood. Time for sedation!

Today was my turn to take the Vet Hunter to the clinic. As I walk in, a quiet Renton with Buddy Otter in tow is hailed with a shower of compliments: “Ooh, he’s so pretty!” “He’s so cute with his otter!” “Look at his eyes! Gorgeous!”

He’ll bite your head off, old man.

So into the exam room we go, where we meet a dew-eyed lab tech who apparently wasn’t present on Monday. “Bad cat.” I say. “Real bad cat.”

“Hey, cutie,” she says to Renton, apparently deaf. Renton waits. She reaches across and STICKS HER FINGER IN THE CAGE. Are you mad?! BAD CAT!!!

“Umm, I wouldn’t do that. Do you have some don’t-eat-me gloves that come up to your elbows?” I motion how high the gloves should go on your arm. “You’re gonna need those.”

She yanks her finger out and goes to find the gloves.

The vet comes in with a now well-armed tech and we go back over the history. A more thorough examination is needed, one that Renton will only allow if he’s oblivious, carefree, and totally unconscious. There’s a waiting period while discussions and logistics are carried out. After all, you have to give a very awake, very pissed off cat a shot first before you can poke him even more.

One of the vets that actually was present on Monday walked by and saw Renton. “Hey, I remember you!” Then he begins to regale the other people within earshot about Renton and how this cat ‘got’ him and a tech on Monday (and it was totally just a scratch — this guy has never pulled one of Renton’s calling cards out of his arm before).

We got Renton juiced up with happy drugs, thankfully, without any incident. Towels are excellent things.

Not long after the doc calls back and though Renton’s labs and x-ray are good, he found a lot of little mini-blisters all in the back of his throat and mouth. There’s a name for these things but the word escapes me now. Whatever they are, they can be treated with steroids. Unfortunately, they can come back (it can be a chronic thing) and it wouldn’t necessarily be a cause of the barfing.

Steven had the pleasure of picking up both Renton and the vet bill this evening. Once he got home, Steven said he’s going to start calling Renton the Money Pit.