Showing posts with label Mark-the-Vet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark-the-Vet. Show all posts

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

Kitten milk

It seems like only yesterday that we brought Winston home as a wide-eyed kitten. He was such a delight that a week later we acquired Monty as a companion for him. 
Monty rather overshadowed Winston. He was a month older so maybe that was why. Most of the time they were great friends but occasionally Monty tried to subjugate Winston who is a very gentle cat. We were very upset when Monty developed congestive heart failure at three years old and we realised that nothing could be done for him. Every solution our patient vets tried exposed further serious problems and eventually we had to let him go to save him further suffering.
That was just over a year ago. Winston didn’t appear to miss Monty – we have had other cats in the past who have pined for their companions, seeking them in all the familiar spots. In fact, we realise now that Winston would have remained perfectly happy being an only cat. He has canine company when we go out and when we take the dogs walking he is usually waiting for us when we come through the front door, greeting us with a quiet miaou and a question mark tail.
In the year that has passed since Monty’s demise Winston has become much more confident. He is extraordinarily affectionate and has a range of calls to inform us of his needs. A loud ‘waaaahhhhh’ tells us he is hungry, a ‘mew’ says ‘hello’. ‘Ng’ means ‘Please open the door’ and a silent miaou is a request for a cuddle. When he is snoozing in the sun and I stroke him he says, ‘Wa-mah’ to start a conversation. He chitters at the birds in the garden, headbutts us for attention, pats an arm for treats and hooks his paw round a hand to draw it to himself for stroking.
He yells raucously for breakfast, particularly if it’s raw beef heart, though chicken wings are a close second favourite. He has other tastes, too. We sometimes have croissants for breakfast and can guarantee that Winston will be on the arm of the chair, reaching forward with a delicate paw to steal a piece. He also likes cheese, cooked chicken, ham and porridge. Two of his stranger delights are bubble wrap and sellotape.

When he and Monty were young kittens Mark-the-Vet asked us what we were feeding them. It’s the usual sort of vet question but when I replied that, along with other fare, we gave them kitten milk he looked a little surprised. I had a sudden vision of a herd of cats waiting to be milked and fell to wondering how this might work.

Cows have been domesticated for years and are accustomed to yielding their milk to the farmer at least twice a day. They are hefty beasts, not given to scaling trees or bounding over fences or indeed clambering under them. Granted, they have to be confined to large open spaces where they spend their days chewing the cud and pondering the meaning of life. If they had absolute freedom to wander at will they might remain in a close-knit band but would undoubtedly enjoy a more varied menu than meadow grass. They are social animals, used to living together.

On the other hand, cats are largely solitary, independent creatures, often leading nocturnal lives of which their owners know little. Keeping a number of cats together leads to challenging problems that can be accommodated only after careful deliberation and cosmetic changes to the human living quarters – that is, extending the house to provide a great deal more space. However, cats cannot be herded, will only cooperate if they are so inclined, and can squeeze through small gaps and leap and climb seemingly insurmountable obstacles with the greatest of ease.

I cannot visualise a throng of dairy felines waiting patiently at the milking parlour gate, miaouing quietly among themselves. Furthermore, would the cat farmer opt to milk by hand? Unlike cows, cats have sharp claws and teeth, so perhaps he might choose to use milking clusters. A cat has eight nipples (usually) so a cat cluster would look decidedly different to the bovine form.

Supposing the farmer has managed to milk his flock of felis catus, does he then pasteurise the product or is it safe to drink straight from the cat, so to speak? Is there a milk tanker – probably the size of a Mini Cooper - that arrives regularly at the cat farm to transport the day’s yield to a central depot where it is bottled or canned? How long can a cat be expected to lactate before she must have another litter? Then what happens to the kittens? Cows have one calf, very rarely two, but a cat may have anything from one to nine or ten young. We know what happens to calves . . .

There are many brands of kitten milk on the shelves of the pet supermarkets but it’s pretty safe to say that none of them have been collected from dairy cats.
 

Sunday, 20 June 2010

Buddy keeps us on our toes!


It was a lovely day on Wednesday. Barry had gone to a formal lunch in London so I took the dogs out on my own. We didn't meet a soul and it was good to feel that we had the forest to ourselves. Jenna and Gus played in and around the ponds and Frodo went in for a refreshing bath. Buddy was sniffing interesting sniffs and happily wagging his tail as we walked along in the sunshine. There was a pleasant breeze to complement the bright sun, the birds were singing and all was well with the world. It felt good to be alive.
When we reached home the dogs flopped down to snooze. After a while Buddy got up and went to the patio door, asking to go out. He started pacing restlessly then began coughing and frothing at the mouth. My first thought was that he had something stuck in his throat though he'd had nothing to eat since breakfast several hours before and I knew he hadn't picked up anything during our walk. He became ever more agitated, stumbling almost into the pond, and I looked in his mouth to see if anything was there. At the same time I noticed that his stomach was bloating and becoming very tight and hard. Within minutes I got him to the vets' surgery – fortunately, it's only two minutes away by car – and managed to help him out of the car. By now he was extremely distressed and I was very relieved when a nurse came after a minute or two to take him through to the treatment area.

When Mark-the-Vet came back to talk to me he looked grave. Buddy was in a bad way. If he was suffering from gastric dilatation a tube could be passed down his throat to relieve the build-up of gas, it would be clear that the stomach had not twisted and he would instantly feel much better. If the tube could not be passed other measures could be taken to release the gas and reduce the pressure, namely inserting a needle or catheter into his stomach from outside. An x-ray would help to determine the state of Buddy's insides. Ultimately, an operation might be required but it was not a procedure to be undertaken lightly in view of Buddy's age – he's fourteen and nearly died three years ago from meningitis. I had to sign a consent form for anaesthesia but could hardly write because my hand was shaking so much. I may always look calm and collected but under the surface everything's racing! I went home to await further information.

As I walked into the house my ears were assailed by noise. The house phone was ringing, as was my mobile. In my haste I had left it behind. Added to this was Skype donging determinedly on my laptop. Barry was on the train and trying to contact me to let me know when to meet him. When he couldn't get an answer from me he started worrying that something had happened and contacted Gillian to phone, email and Skype me. No-one is allowed to remain unreachable in our family!

As luck would have it, when I left to meet Barry at the station Mark-the-Vet tried several times to contact me. He was phoning every ten minutes to discuss options. It was clear that Buddy had a twisted stomach, usually called gastric torsion or volvulus. There were dangers inherent in an operation; general anaesthesia poses a risk in any animal, more so an elderly one. The stomach wall and abdominal organs might be badly damaged if the blood supply to them had been reduced, and the recovery period was critical. Finally we decided that it was not the right time to let Buddy go – in general, he's fit and healthy, though almost blind. He deserved his chance and so we gave our consent for the operation. Mark-the-Vet phoned at 9:30 that evening to let us know how it had progressed. He had never performed this procedure and had called in another vet, whom he assisted. The stomach was undamaged and had only twisted once. In order to prevent it twisting again in the future it had been stitched to the abdomen wall and Buddy was recovering. Around two hours later Ben-the-Vet, the operating vet, called to tell us that Buddy seemed well but that he would stay overnight to keep an eye on him and would we like him to call us at 3:00 am? We declined! Thursday was an anxious day but my mind and time were occupied very pleasantly by Susannah, who invited me to meet her in London, so I left Barry to wait for news. Mark-the-Vet and Kate-the-Vet phoned two or three times to give an update on the boy's progress and it seemed that Buddy would not be ready to leave for a while. We anticipated him being away over the weekend but on Friday afternoon we were told that we could take him home on Saturday, once final checks had been done. Yesterday, at 3:00 pm, almost exactly three days to the hour that I had rushed him in there, he wobbled out from the treatment area, wagging his tail and obviously pleased to see us. The rest of the animals were excited to see him and sniffed him all over.
Sleeping peacefully - sleep is the best cure of all!
Last night I slept downstairs with him as managing the stairs would be difficult for him. He was a little disturbed by this – he's accustomed to sleeping in our bedroom - and kept going to the foot of the stairs until I shut the sitting room door.
One could be forgiven for thinking that Cruella de Vil had been taking samples!
He woke about 4:00 am and wandered around for an hour or so before having a small meal and going back to sleep.
A Dalmatian's spots really are skin-deep! They are spotted within and without - even in their mouths. Buddy has had two analgesic patches. I think the second one may be removed on Monday.
He goes back to the vet for a check-up tomorrow – I don't know whether he'll have a fresh analgesic patch. He has antibiotics for the next few days and needs lots of rest to recuperate.
It's good to see him back in his place on the settee! He's a great character and we would have missed him sorely. His time will come – but not just now. There's life in the old dog, yet - and we have our great vets to thank for that!

Thursday, 15 April 2010

Winston’s sad April blog 2010


Monty as a kitten
 Winston here . . . no p'rrrrr, p'rrrrr today.

Monty isn't coming home ever again and we're all so sad.
Monty loved Jenna 
Monty really enjoyed training Gus - dogs need to learn their place!
 His heart was too big, his kidneys couldn't cope and he was just too tired.
Mark-the-Vet and all the nurses at Kynoch did their very best but Monty simply couldn't cope.

Above all he loved people . . .
My Humans say that he had a short life and a merry one – he was a very big personality - but they are so sad . . .

I'm sad - I've lost my friend and companion  - Monty was fun, he was lovely to snuggle with, he washed the bits I couldn't reach, but it was his time to travel on into stardust . . .
don't think I'll be lonely – there are lots of people here to keep me busy and happy – but sometimes a cat just needs another cat. I'll keep you posted.

RIP Monty - 20.11.2006 - 15.04.2010
 TTFN

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

ABC Wednesday M is for Mites! and Monty . . .


I'm sure you've all heard the expression 'Poor little mite' . It's one that I shall never use again advisedly from now on!

A week ago today (Tuesday) all the dogs seemed to be taking it in turns to lick the side of Jenna's face. We all looked and could feel that there was what appeared to be a lump. We investigated and found what seemed to be a slightly infected cut so Barry and our eldest granddaughter Marnie took Jenna to the vet. Mark-the-Vet discovered that the cut had been caused by scratching because she had ear mites. We hadn't noticed any excessive scratching but the evidence was undeniable.

Ear mites are very contagious which meant that the rest of the animals had to be seen. We have had six dogs in our house for the last three and a half weeks as Gillian's two were visiting so they all had to be transported to the vet and taken in two by two on a sort of rolling programme – one being examined while one waited. It was quite a pantomime circus and very entertaining for the other clients! The result was that two of ours needed treatment - Jenna and her half-brother Gus (who was heavily infested) as well as Tia, one of Gillian's dogs. Buddy's ears were grubby so he had to have drops and Frodo and Foxy were clear. The next morning Winston and Monty had to be seen but they were completely clear.

I learnt something new. It seems that puppies are often infested with ear mites! I knew about intestinal worms but I'd never heard or read of ear mites being a problem in puppies. So Gus is probably undoubtedly the culprit.

So the morning routine is now:- anti-epileptic drugs for Frodo, MSM and Glucosamine and other vitamins for Frodo, Buddy and Jenna, antibiotics for Jenna, ear drops for Jenna and Gus, cleansing ear drops for Buddy (which he hates – he shakes and we all get a shower, but it smells quite pleasant . . . ), eye drops for Buddy. Tia and Foxy have gone home with their family now so they're out of the equation . . . which brings me to Monty.
Monty adores dogs, particularly black dogs. He was born into an Army doctor's home and  among other breeds (including a Japanese Bobtail!!!) she had a black GiantSchnauzer who gently ambled amongst the cats and kittens. Monty loves all the dogs!  Here he is between Gus  (7 months) and Jenna (4 years) 
Monty and Winston were declared mite-free for which we were thankful. Monty had been quiet and had had little appetite for a couple of days and we were keeping an eye on him. Throughout Sunday his breathing became very laboured and we decided we needed an emergency appointment for him. My thoughts were initially that he had a respiratory infection but it also crossed my mind that he might have a problem with his heart. It transpired that my second fear was the correct one and he is currently still with the vets who are doing a fine balancing act to restore him to health. Mark-the-Vet phones twice daily (sometimes more) to let us know how he is progressing but it looks as if he will remain with them for another day or two at least as he is on an intravenous drip. Then his medications will join the rest in the 'animal medicine cupboard' and my morning and evening rounds will be longer.

Marnie and Callum went to visit him today and he was very responsive, purring and rubbing his head against them. We didn't go because we thought it might distress him but as their visit was rewarding perhaps we will go tomorrow. We are not pessimists but we do try to be realistic. Our vets are the best and Monty is young – only three years old - but his heart is not in good order, thus we hope for a good outcome but fear the worst. He's a fighter though, nearly dying from osteomyelitis as a three-month-old kitten.
It's difficult, indeed, doing everyday tasks with all fingers crossed!
Thank you to Denise Nesbitt and her ABC Wednesday team for their hard work in organising and hosting this meme. You can find out more – and join in! – here!

Monday, 15 March 2010

Winston’s March blog 2010


Winston here . . . p'rrrrr, p'rrrrr . . .

Well, February come and went in a flash, didn't it? I was just thinking what I was going to write and then blow me it was March before I turned round. So, what's been happening in this neck of the woods? We don't live in woods – it's just something the Humans say and it means 'here' so why don't they say 'What's been happening here?'

We've had lots of visitors. Gillian and Callum come one day to look after the dogs while our Humans went out. Us cats don't need looking after but the dogs are pathetic fond of company and need enjoy people around them constantly much of the time.

Then Gillian and Marnie arrived and there was great excitement 'coz it sounds as though Marnie might come here to go to school. Me and Monty don't understand that 'coz there are hundreds of schools all over the show but the school she's at is pretty poor cop. Anyway, she's got to work hard to get her greys or she can't come. That's funny 'coz Mrs H don't work hard for her greys apart from trying to cover 'em up and Mr H don't have enough fur to go grey! Me and Monty find it ever so difficult to understand our Humans sometimes!

That same time Bethan come home and there was lots of hugging among the Humans – bit over the top if you ask me but at least they don't go sniffing each other's bottoms like the dogs do – dead common, me and Monty think! Us cats face each other eye to eye and put on stilts and a bit of fur extension to show we're to be reckoned with. We like being stroked and chatted to by the Humans, though, specially if they've got prawn treats (Susannah was the first and best Human to bring them to us!)

What next? Oh yes, Jenna-the-Labrador started limping so of course the Humans went all soft on her and took her to see Phil-the-Vet. Me and Monty knew what the answer would be – walks on the lead and a bit of pain relief. Honest, these dogs don't handle pain well, not like us cats. We never murmur . . . (What? Mrs H has just said that we don't murmur till it's almost too late. H'mmm, yes, there's a lot of truth in that. When Monty had osteo-something he didn't cry and . . . well, let's just say the Humans noticed and took him to Phil-the-Vet and Nadia-the-Vet and Mark-the-Vet and they SAVED him and he don't even limp no more!)

Anyway, the Humans took Jenna-the-Labrador out on the lead for two weeks with the other dogs and she was ever so good so then they let her run free again and after two days she was hobbling again so this time Phil-the-Vet decided to take x-rays and Jenna had to spend another day with the vets (which she loved, exhibitionist that she is!) 

Mr H was ever so serious when he brought her home. 'Not good news,' he said and Mrs H gasped and said, 'Oh, no! What?'

Phil-the-Vet said that Jenna has damaged all her hip and shoulder joints and has to be very careful for the next eight weeks and then be watched after that. Well, I'm only a cat but I think if you go throwing yourself all over the forest chasing balls for goodness' sake, you deserve what you get. Jenna's nice, though, and I think Gus plays a bit rough with her and she squeaks but he don't take no notice of her so I hope she'll be all right 'coz me and Monty are ever so fond of her, specially Monty.

Then the Humans got all funny and started tidying and clearing and cleaning. I mean, they're always busy but this was different and then new people come to stay. It was Mr Human's brother and his wife and we expected to see them at Christmas but they was late getting back from Efreehopia so they didn't come then so we didn't see them. Me and Monty kept a low profile 'coz our Humans had told us that Margaret don't like cats much (I know – can you believe it? – and we're so gorgeous and all!) but anyway they come and stayed for a couple of days and it was fun. Me and Monty was much better-behaved than the dogs, natch!

So now it's back to just the Humans and us again but I've heard tell that Gareth's children are coming to stay soon and that'll be good. I think that's all I've got for you just now. I'll see you again soon.

TTFN