[img]396|left|Alex Campbell||no_popup[/img] Can we talk? I mean, really talk? Not about the weather, or what you did last weekend, or who just got voted off American Idol. I want to talk to you about poop. Cat poop.
[img]506|left|||no_popup[/img] I adopted Shelby, a gorgeous, stocky, extra-toed feline, five years ago; she was eight years old then. At the vet’s office she’s listed as a domestic longhair, but I know there’s some Maine Coon in there somewhere. After she’d been with me for a few weeks, I took her to the vet for a checkup.
They discovered she had a heart murmur, a 3 on a scale of 1 to 6. I took her in to have an ultrasound, and a kitty cardiologist made a recommendation for her to have medication. I trust doctors implicitly, so I took his advice and started her on the meds. I took her in for a second ultrasound to make sure the medication was working (the cost of an ultrasound for a cat runs about $300 these days, FYI). The medication and the baby aspirin I also had to give her were doing their job.
Many months later, I noticed that every once in awhile, Shelby had runny stool. If reading about this freaks you out, stop reading. Now. She has a habit of licking pen ink and photographs, so I wondered if that was making her sick. I mentioned it to the vet at the next checkup, and she said that a lot of cats are allergic to chicken. She told me to get a food without chicken in it, and see if that worked.
The Search Begins
Have you ever tried to buy cat food without chicken in it? I discovered that it is listed as one of the first ingredients in most cat food. Finally, I found food that was made up of seafood and vegetables; Shelby would be sick no more.
And she wasn’t, not for a long time. Until about six months ago. And then, oh, boy, was she sick! The poor thing. For about four days, her bowels were so loose you’d think she went to an All-You-Can-Eat burrito buffet. I took her in for blood work. First, they stuck a needle in her back leg to draw blood. Poor Shelby, she gripped the table (which she could, thanks to her extra toes), and screamed. You’ve heard a cat meow, even wail perhaps, but have you ever heard a cat scream? It’s not a sound I’d like to hear again.
After all that drama, they couldn’t get enough blood. Next, they tried (and I cringe at the memory as I write this) drawing blood from her neck. Her neck! No dice. No surprise. They got more blood from a different leg and called it a day. The test results all came back in the normal range.
I had a phone consult with the vet. Could be her food. Take her off chicken and seafood. Give her no treats, only her new food. Which was, so help me, venison and green peas, dry and canned.
Ma-dahm May Have Champagne
Do you know how much venison costs? About $40 for a 10 lb. bag. I felt like serving it to her with a white cloth napkin draped over my forearm. “Would you like mineral water with your deer meat, Miss Shelby?” She took to it immediately. Venison is supposed to be the most gentle on the stomach, if not on the wallet. And it was, for awhile. And then the problem came back, not as viciously as before, thank goodness, but still.
I began checking Shelby’s litter box obsessively. I recorded the time and condition of her stool so I could consult with her doctor weekly. By now I had come to the conclusion that it wasn’t the food—she’d tried every type of food known to cats.
I could not get a solid stool out of this cat. Not only that, it was the wrong color, and it stunk to high heaven. My upstairs neighbor is trying to sell her condo. Someone came in and said it was great, except for the cat smell in the entryway. Not only could I not figure out what ailed my cat companion, I was costing my neighbor the sale of her place!
My friend Gwen wondered if maybe it was her heart medication. After, sigh, talking with the vet, I cut her dose in half. And then, on my birthday, a present. My dear Shelby produced a poop that was the right shape and color. A miracle! You may be thinking that my life must be pretty lacking to be ecstatic over feline feces, but I had been through so much. I thanked Shelby for my birthday present and had a great day, and a few days.
Until a couple of days ago. It’s not the medication. It’s not the chicken, or the seafood, or the venison. My latest theory? Feline IBS, which usually stands for Irritable Bowel Syndrome, but in my case, it stands for Irritated But Still trying to figure it out…
Anyone wanna buy a two-bedroom condo? The house is cat friendly. And the downstairs neighbor is patient and clean.
Ms. Campbell may be contacted at campbellalexandra@hotmail.com
