Erika Sanely (erika_sanely) wrote,
Erika Sanely

Apparently this is the month for cats to be extra hard work than normal.

So anyway about a month ago I flea-ed the boys with a different brand than I normally use. A week later I noticed two very odd things about Owen. One, he had bald circles on his neck and two, he was so cuddly that at on stage I thought a different ginger cat had broken into my house and taken his place while he went on vacation. He even changed his normal place for sleeping at night.

A balding, sooky cat who couldn't get enough pets and even hugs and became a lap cat and before he was balding wouldn't let me make direct eye contact with him is not a good thing. So, one vet visit was organised.

Now immediately before getting to the vet was slightly humorous. I got the cat carrier out of the garage and bought it inside, and Marley - the cat whom was on daily antibiotics for three months and fortnightly vet visits just ran. You could clearly see on his face the phrase "Oh frack this. I'm fine." and he became invisible to the human eye. Owen looked at the cage, yawned and obviously thought to himself how lucky he was not to be Marley and went back to sleeping. Owen was so convinced the carrier was for Marley that I got him in the cage, in the car, and to the vet's office before he started to cry to be let out. The shock that he was in the cage was quite funny. He kept blinking and turning his head in a "Wha-? But the-? And the? What alternate universe have I stumbled into??"

He was great at the vets, though it took me a bit to get him out the the cage. The vet took a look at the bald spots, asked some questions, and then asked me to hold the cat while he turned off the lights and checked Owen's skin with a black light to see if the spots were florescent. The only thought going through my head was that my cat was being CSI-ed. Luckily - I think - none of the spots shone like neon, so the vet thought there was a good chance that whatever was making my cat go bald and love me wasn't a fungal infection. However, the spots didn't look bacterial, so he thought maybe I had bought Owen to see the vet before the fungal infection got bad enough to be really fungal.

Since it is possibly fungal, I was given tablets that had to be given daily for two weeks. And after thinking about it, the vet thought it best for all involved if both cats took the course of treatment for two weeks to ensure everyone in the house would be free of infection.

Awesome in that way things are completely not.

And. And my absolute not favourite part of the treatment. I was given some medicated gel to put on Owen's bald spots and surrounding non-bald posts twice a day.

Owen is not a friendly cat. Well, unfriendly is probably the wrong word. Reserved. That's better. Marley has been a gem to get the tablet into. He has learned from his previous daily three month dosing experience that if you don't fight it, it's over quickly and I shall attempt to buy his love back with fresh meat instead of canned stuff. Owen.... I think I'm going to need medicating before this is over. It's like he's a ninja - I can grab him, get him into a tablet/get friendly position but just as I'm about to do whatever I'm trying to do I'm a thousand percent certain he dislocates his shoulder and slips out of my grasp. A friend told me to try wrapping him in a towel, but the spots are just far enough down his neck that the edge of the towel is in easy limb freeing access.

It's been ten days since we've started medicating. I can get the tablet into him in only 10 minutes (You should have seen how long it took when we started). The gel.... I have to wait until he's asleep and ambush him. Which means that I am also ambushing him when he's sleeping with just plain no strings attached petting so he won't always assume I'm going to be wiping yucky stuff on him. However, he is looking better, Marley hasn't caught anything yet. Owen is getting less about the love, but that seems like it's not him thinking I"m an evil cow who forces things donw his throat and more like his old personality. By that I mean he doesn't look at me with plans for my assassination. He just looks at me wishing he knew how to open the fridge so he could cut out the middle-man.
Tags: the boys

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