Warning: Banal Pet Post Ahead
This is for all those that know and adore our cat Ranger (a.k.a. Joe Bob, a.k.a., Moby, a.k.a. Goldfarb).
Who is clearly still spry enough to take Kip down for the count.
Nothing serious, just a current state of his condition for all those who know I’ve been fussing over his health. Basically he’s just an old cantankerous cat.
After over a week of a chronically weeping eye, we decided to take him to the vet. The following was discovered:
1-He has a slight eye infection, which the drops the vet gave us seems to
have just about cleared up.
2-He has dropped a pound and a half in the past 8 months (not good). The vet
thought it could be one of a couple of reasons, and so blood work was done.
Thankfully, it wasn’t the kidneys, but:
3-He has a hyper active thyroid gland. Apparently a normal reading is 5.4,
Ranger’s was 19.2. He’s on medication that will hopefully stabilize
him. Then, in month, we will see if he would benefit best from surgery or a life
long non-invasive treatment.
4-He’s on a new medication for his poor old hips which will hopefully
help. Also, new pain killer.
Beyond that, he’s pretty much Ranger. Still purrs like a locomotive at the drop of a hat, or a pin, or if a motorcycle goes down the street, or if you call out “Cat!”, or touch him, or look at him the right way. (has all that constant purring degraded the cartilage in his hips? Hmmm, I wonder…)
He still prefers to drink any water besides the cool fresh water just poured in his clean bowl. Including the stuff that briefly sits on top of the soil when I water the plants. And, on related note, he still has a perpetually dirty nose, all my efforts with a washcloth are for naught.
And none of what has been going on with him health-wise has deterred him from his 4 am recitals of epic poetry, in modulating tone and pitch. Currently he’s favoring the acoustics of the bathroom right next to our bedroom for said recitals.
Nothing to say actually. Just waving at Ranger. He’s a prince among cats.
Did he finally quit with the puking every week?
Oh, he still scarfs’n'barfs, though now it’s more of a phase remembers to indulge every now and then than an ongoing thing. Street cats. Man, you’d think they’d trust us by now. (Check out this post about, among other things, stray cats in Israel.)
Well, he does live with a goddess of death and destruction. That would make most sane creatures nervous.
Stray cats like pigeons? In parks in Australia I understand that goanna lizards fill the niche occupied by squirrels around here. And in Alaska the bald eagles crowd at the sea gulls at the docks.
If you get a chance to read Crossing Paths by Craig Childs I especially recommend the chapter on his encounters with mountain lions. And his story of the cat he got to hunt the mice in his teepee is pretty amusing.
I now have in my head Ranger (as voiced by my wife Jenn) complaining of his various aches and pains. “Oy! My thyroid is killin’ me. These hips. These hips will be the death o’ me. For all the world….”
For the unintiated, the voice Jenn Moore uses is that of your typical NY/NJ old Jewish Man having a good vetch.
I imagine Ranger would also like a nice lox on a bagel.
I used to ply One-Ear The Geriatric Feline with leftover lox from my post-college-grad job at Dragoons. He never really got into Cel-Ray tonic, though. And I doubt he ever really understood why any sane creature would leave a job where they could get LOX !!! FOR FREE !!!
One-Ear was not without his point.
Heck, even Emma the Piebald wouldn’t drink Cel-Ray, and this is a cat who digs crushed pineapple, refried beans, and diet cola. Fine, I’m the alien freak cuz’ I drink Cel-Ray when I can get it. EVERYONE STOP LOOKING AT ME !!! DON’T EVER LOOK AT MEEEE !!!!”