Let’s All Go to the Vet!

Today was supposed to be a day of no plans and otherwise a day to accomplish nothing. Well, there was perhaps a trip to Aldi tentatively planned, and perhaps a cleaning of the bathtub, a letter to write to a friend, and oh yes, maybe a blog entry if the muses so divined, but none of this was set in stone.

Alas, our oldest cat Nyla had other ideas.

Overnight, she jumped up on my bed, meowed, and curled up next to me. This is not altogether unusual, except for the timing. This is her routine: to wake me up at 5a every morning to let me know that she is hungry, and damn it, it’s breakfast time. Last night, she came in much earlier than usual. When she meowed, I believed she was just telling me Hello when actually she was saying Daddy, my tummy hurts and I just threw up in the dining room.

Isn’t it amazing how much information is conveyed in a simple Meow?

Naturally, I rolled over and resumed my sleep, having translated the meaning of the meow so horribly wrong. A few hours later and my usual alarm clock was nowhere to be found. As is my normal routine, I made my way down the dark staircase to the kitchen where I expected to find Nyla stretched out in the middle of the room. This morning was different: no Nyla.

I gave Gigi her portion of the can of chicken, opened the basement door just wide enough to slip Oreo her portion of the can, then set out to find Nyla. I had asked Gigi where her sister was, but Gigi did not meow a peep.

  

I searched in the usual Nyla hiding spots - the kitchen chair tucked under the table; an orange IAMS pup tent in the living room; the chair situated at the computer desk - but no Nyla. A trip back upstairs to see if she was still sleeping in Warrior Queen’s bedroom, but I did not have to go that far. I finally found her, curled up in a bed in the middle of the hall. I had walked right by her when I went downstairs and didn’t realize it. Remember this happened at 6a on a winter’s morning.

Okay, she was resting, but this was unusual for her. She is always chomping down on her breakfast at this time of the morning. I tried to coax her downstairs where her breakfast awaited her, but she would not move. By this time, Warrior Queen was up and now she was concerned.

We tried a few things to get Nyla out of her lethargy during the next hour. Nyla likes to sit with me on our La-z-Boy© recliner. I sat down, got the chair in position so Nyla could jump up to lay down on the foot rest. This morning she walked over to the chair, but would not jump up. I opened a can of tuna and offered her the tuna water (her favorite treat) from the can. Nyla watched me put the custard cup of water on the floor, but ignored it.

At this point, websites were consulted, a phone number found for an emergency veterinary clinic, and Warrior Queen made the call. Within an hour, Nyla was inside a cat carrier and being transported to the far side of town. Nyla protested the entire time; apparently she dislikes car rides, and made sure we knew it.

Nyla: Meow! Meow! Meow! Meoooowwwww!

Translation: I don’t like this! Let me out! Let me out! Are we there yet?

Naturally we responded with tones reserved for soothing our ill and by now neurotic kitty.

The remainder of our Sunday morning was spent at the clinic, where Nyla racked up a few medical expenses: doctor visit ($130), blood work ($250), and x-rays (another $250). Warrior Queen reported to the doctor that Nyla had a few stinky poops in her box the night before, accompanied by a loud attack of flatulence. We slipped out for a quick breakfast while Nyla endured the indignity of a needle to draw her blood and then posed for a few pictures without allowing her to primp and preen her fur for the camera. 

We returned and after a short wait we were called back to the exam room to review the test results. All the blood work was negative: no infections or inflammations. The x-rays also looked normal, save for a dark blob in the middle. The doctor pointed out Nyla’s stomach (empty because she had yet to eat this day); her liver (normal); and the dark blob was gas filling up her colon. Good news, but a long way to come to find out that Nyla only had an upset stomach. The doctor recommended some anti-nausea medicine which we could take home and administer squirted into the mouth.

Relieved, we brought our girl home in another uneventful (for us) and stressful (for her) ride home.

Nyla: Meow! Meow! Meow! Meowwwwwww!

Translation: Are we home yet? Are we home yet? Are we home yet?

Once home and out of the carrier, Nyla made a bee line for her food dish and quickly made up for lost time. Since then she has rested, curled up with me in the recliner, and drank all her tuna water. 

Stomach ache indeed!

Personal note to a certain local animal shelter who insisted last year that Warrior Queen and I do not take proper care of our cats when they get sick: YO KITTY COTTAGE!  WE TOOK OUR CAT TO THE VET TODAY DESPITE WHAT YOU THINK. DOCTOR’S RECEIPT AND MEDICAL NOTES ARE AVAILABLE FOR YOUR INSPECTION UPON REQUEST. BTW – NYAH! NYAH! NYAH!

(Thank you for reading. Nyla says, “Meow!”)