Fans of Ferdinand Unite!
Do you happen to be a fan of cats? Do you happen to be a fan of our Ferdinand, in particular? If so, please let me know. Sign a petition, call up the governor, do what you need to do to save this cat, because I am just about at my limit.
I know, you thought I was at my limit way back at the golden showers incident. (Well, it wasn't quite a golden showers moment, if you know what those are, but when it rains urine, golden showers is an apt description, don't you think? [Google golden showers and see if that just doesn't either creep you out or give you a good laugh.]) I thought I was at my limit, too, but I guess I am a person who has developed a lot of patience over the years. I've had to do so, or I'd have already a gone crazy with 4 kids and 3 animals, not to mention a husband who is just slow about everything. In short, I wasn't at the limit, and could be pushed further.
Add to that ginormous amount of patience a little side of guilt, and here we are still taking care of Mr. Diabetic. (Who wants to give up on someone you said you'd take care of?) I feel for him, really I do. Supposedly, diabetes is treatable. I know this is true for both humans and cats. Well, we've been trying to manage it since October, and we've still not gotten him to that point. We are still experimenting with how much insulin to give him, and in the meantime, we can tell that his condition has deteriorated. His fur is getting drier, his water intake is still considerable on a daily basis, and the neuropathy in his legs has progressed.
Furthermore, while we were given a slight reprieve in the piddle on the floor department right after he got a shot for a UTI, Mr. Diabetic is back at it. In the last couple of days I have had to clean up 2 large puddles and 2 piles a day in the basement. Ferdinand is so predictable now, that pretty much every morning Tim and I start our breakfast conversation the same way:
We have that same exact conversation in the evening when he comes home. I don't know why I feel like I have to share the details. I never bothered telling him how many dirty diapers the kids had each day. Perhaps it is my way of saying, This was the day I had. Back off, unless you have something good to say. On the other hand, I think I tell Tim so that he knows what Ferdinand does all day, and should he have Ferdinand at the vet, he can answer the vet's questions adequately.
Besides his potty-ing, there isn't much that he does do. He's been banished to the basement, where it is cool, so he sits on the couch all day, only getting off to get food, water, or use the floor as a litter. Which makes us wonder, if he can jump onto and down from the couch, don't you think he could go into the litter box? (An aside: the combination of cat urine, cleaning component, and bleach has now taken the paint off some parts of the basement floor!)
It all comes back to what sort of life is Ferdinand living. Is his quality of life, as they say, any good? Tim and I agree that we don't think so. He whines a ton, especially if he is thirsty. And it is unclear how his legs feel to him. He walks funny, sits funny, and lounges most of the time. To be honest, I think that whatever time he has left is going to be up soon, if we cannot come to some sort of manageable solution asap.
So, if you feel the need to save this cat, let me know. Give me some suggestions or guidelines to go by, and perhaps the kitty will be pardoned. In the end, I just want to do what is best for him. And as cavalier as I might sound, inside, I am really not. I've already been through the deaths of several pets before, and it is never fun. Which is why I am stalling...
Add to that ginormous amount of patience a little side of guilt, and here we are still taking care of Mr. Diabetic. (Who wants to give up on someone you said you'd take care of?) I feel for him, really I do. Supposedly, diabetes is treatable. I know this is true for both humans and cats. Well, we've been trying to manage it since October, and we've still not gotten him to that point. We are still experimenting with how much insulin to give him, and in the meantime, we can tell that his condition has deteriorated. His fur is getting drier, his water intake is still considerable on a daily basis, and the neuropathy in his legs has progressed.
Furthermore, while we were given a slight reprieve in the piddle on the floor department right after he got a shot for a UTI, Mr. Diabetic is back at it. In the last couple of days I have had to clean up 2 large puddles and 2 piles a day in the basement. Ferdinand is so predictable now, that pretty much every morning Tim and I start our breakfast conversation the same way:
Me: Another puddle in the basement. Another pile, too.
Him: Great.
We have that same exact conversation in the evening when he comes home. I don't know why I feel like I have to share the details. I never bothered telling him how many dirty diapers the kids had each day. Perhaps it is my way of saying, This was the day I had. Back off, unless you have something good to say. On the other hand, I think I tell Tim so that he knows what Ferdinand does all day, and should he have Ferdinand at the vet, he can answer the vet's questions adequately.
Besides his potty-ing, there isn't much that he does do. He's been banished to the basement, where it is cool, so he sits on the couch all day, only getting off to get food, water, or use the floor as a litter. Which makes us wonder, if he can jump onto and down from the couch, don't you think he could go into the litter box? (An aside: the combination of cat urine, cleaning component, and bleach has now taken the paint off some parts of the basement floor!)
It all comes back to what sort of life is Ferdinand living. Is his quality of life, as they say, any good? Tim and I agree that we don't think so. He whines a ton, especially if he is thirsty. And it is unclear how his legs feel to him. He walks funny, sits funny, and lounges most of the time. To be honest, I think that whatever time he has left is going to be up soon, if we cannot come to some sort of manageable solution asap.
So, if you feel the need to save this cat, let me know. Give me some suggestions or guidelines to go by, and perhaps the kitty will be pardoned. In the end, I just want to do what is best for him. And as cavalier as I might sound, inside, I am really not. I've already been through the deaths of several pets before, and it is never fun. Which is why I am stalling...
Comments
PS: People, plese do not comment on this and bash my sister if you do not specificall know her to have this conversation with her over the phone. You have no idea her character if you are a random who has fallen upon her blog.
seriously chris, we went this with tlc (mr. three legged cat) and we decided that if injections are required, we shouldn't do it. he was horrible (HORRIBLE!!) about jumping up on the table or counter as soon as you turned your back and eat/ruin whatever food (especially bread) you may have left out. the ambient level of stress in our house dropped significantly the day we proactively addressed his quality of life issue.