This morning I was sitting on the couch when Bugsy came over, turned around and squatted to pee on the floor right in front of me. Of course, I immediately pushed him away to make him stop, but when I looked to see if I was too late, there were two or three little red droplets there. He had blood in his urine...quite a bit of it.
I leapt up, got dressed as fast as I could, got Bugsy into his carry-case (not without a struggle...he escaped the first time). And took him straight over to the vet, who is right around the corner from me, thank goodness. Of course, the more time passed after the discovery that my cat was sick, the harder it became to remain calm.
But I managed it, for the most part. The vet examined him and said his heart sounded good, didn't have a fever (Bugsy didn't like getting his temp taken!) and commented that his teeth are bad, which could cause bacteria to migrate to other parts of his body. He was also unhappy with Bugsy's weight... 21 lbs, he said, though that seems odd, as he doesn't look any bigger than when I got him, and back then the vet said he was 16 lbs.
Anyway, needed to do a whole raft of tests on my boy, to the tune of about $650. *gulp* Blood tests, urinalysis, x-ray, IV fluids for the day to rehydrate him, etc. Happily, I have the money in the bank to pay for it, so I just said go ahead and do what you have to do. I shudder to think what might have happened had I not been able to afford the tests.
As it was, all the tests came back normal, and the doc says it's just a bad bladder infection. Though why he would come down with a bladder infection out of the blue, I don't know. I have a bunch of meds to give him over the next couple of weeks, and that should clear it up.
But man...the worst part of this whole thing was going to pick him up tonight. He. Was. MAD.
As I arrived, the vet had just finished taking the IV out and Bugsy was growling constantly, hissing anytime anyone went near his cage, and swatting whenever we put a hand near him. Luckily he's declawed on the front feet, so there were no gashes received...but I wasn't so confident that I would get away from all this without a good bite, so the doctor and I had to work together to get him back into his carry-case.
Of course, he didn't want to go in, and as angry as he was, neither of us wanted to pick him up and force him in. The carry-case has a fairly large side flap which zips closed, so I figured out that if we lowered the case on top of him and then roll it over slowly while shutting the flap, we should be able to manage it.
And we did. The vet was pretty impressed - I don't think he'd ever seen that before. He'll think of me from now on when he has a belligerent animal to stuff in a bag. Poor Bugsy was upside down for a while till he made the effort to flip himself over, but he quieted down a lot once he was inside the bag.
But then it was my turn to get upset. I managed to hold it together while I paid and thanked the doctor, but the moment I sat down in my car and shut the door, the waterworks started. It was just so upsetting seeing my little guy like that! So angry and scared and probably in a little pain. I felt awful for having to put him through it, and it was really, really upsetting to see him so frightened and defensive. I've never so much as heard him growl before and there he was growling and hissing and clawing constantly whenever anyone got near him. Poor boy.
I think I'm having a harder time getting back to normal than he is. I figured once I opened his bag, he'd shoot out and race into the spare bedroom to hide. But he didn't. He just came out. walked a couple of steps, turned around and looked at me, and even let me touch him...which made me cry again. It felt like being forgiven.
He's wandering around now, and has come over and let me scratch his ears once, but he hasn't jumped up on the couch to lie down in his usual spot next to me. I think he's just making sure everything is where it should be, and then he'll feel better. I'll have to keep a close eye on him for the next several days and make sure the blood goes away. I sure don't want to have to take him back to the vet and get him all worked up again.
I'm so relieved he's okay. My dinosaur brain kept thinking "I've only had him for nine months! He can't be dying! I can't lose him!" My rational brain was thinking "It's probably just a minor bladder infection and he'll be fine after some antibiotics.
Gladly, my rational brain was right.
And there's a happy ending to the story. Bugsy just came up and draped himself over my leg and then laid down. :-) His purrer isn't working - sounds like he's whining softly, like a dog might do...but he's probably still a little tense.
I don't blame him. So am I.
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