Unfolded

Eleven days ago, my kitty Ki ate a light breakfast, then turned and trotted off past the barn and toward the pasture. He had a faraway look in his eye and a purposeful air, an air that said "I'm going for an adventure!"



He never came back.

He's not coming back.

Most likely he was killed by coyotes. Or maybe he found another family to adopt. Certainly, he found adventure, whatever happened.



I adopted Ki when my neighbors abandoned him when they moved away. I reluctantly rescued him and took him in. I'm glad I did; he he probably wouldn't have lived long in the city.

He was a outdoor cat when I took him in. When we moved to the farm, I let him roam outdoors again. He was a good hunter, and loved living here. If the hunter became the hunted, well, all I can say is he lived the life he wanted.

I am sad, and I miss him. But I am glad that I knew him, loved him, and gave him a home.

Ki seems to be comfortable, and happy to be home. He has to wear a collar to keep him from licking the incision. It's flexible, made of Tyvek or a similar synthetic material, rather than one of the rigid plastic cones. While he appeared to be somewhat annoyed by it at first, he seems to have gotten used to it, for which I am grateful.

He is eating, though not as voraciously as usual. He is pee'ing too, which is good. As of this morning, though, he has yet to have a bowel movement. He should have had one by now. I will skip Tai Chi class tonight and go straight home to check on him. If he hasn't had a bowel movement during the day, I will have to take him back to the vet.

He really wants to go outside. We're supposed to keep him inside for two weeks while the incision heals. It's going to be a long two weeks for all of us.

But overall he seems comfortable and fairly happy, so that's good.

Ki had exploratory surgery last night, but they found no obstruction in his GI tract. They did find a calcified nodule in free-floating in his abdomen, and removed it. It's about the size of a large lima bean. Ir certainly could have made him uncomfortable.

He wasn't hungry when they fed him this morning. We went over to visit him around 1pm. I took a can of tuna to see if that would entice him. He completely refused it. He wouldn't even lick it off my fingers. He didn't seem to be in pain, but he was obviously unhappy. We gave him lots of pets, and he liked that. But clearly wasn't happy with the situation.

They're supposed to call when he has eaten and been able to keep the food down. It is 8pm now and they haven't called. Rob was thinking about visiting him but to be honest I think it would just depress me more...and I have cried a couple of times today.

To be honest, I don't think the nodule they removed is the cause of him not eating. I think it's something else, but I haven't a clue as to what it could be.

If he isn't eating tomorrow morning, I am thinking about transferring him to our normal vet, who will be open by then. They might be better equipped to deal with figuring out what's wrong. And they have his past medical records.

I am not doing well at handling my morning routine these days. The last 20-30 minutes before I leave for work is a blur of activity. I have to feed three cats three different kinds of food, and remember to give Patches her insulin shot.


Since Patches is diabetic it's pretty critical that she eat only her food. But, cats being cats, she tends to wander over and try to eat out of the other cats' dishes, while they, in turn, try to steal her food. So I have to keep an eye on them while they're eating and run interference whenever I spot food stealing going on.

Then while the cats are eating I set up Patches' automatic feeder so she gets a couple of meals throughout the day, then stick the feeder in the oven so that Ki doesn't break open the feeder and eat all of her food within minutes. (Rob puts the feeder out before he leaves for work, after having locked Ki upstairs behind two stacked baby gates. This extra bit of morning fun is all due to the fact that a) the weather is bad and Ki can't go outside, and b) this old house doesn't have doors that shut well enough to latch.) *


At this point I can fix my own breakfast (a smoothie of soy milk, blueberrys, spirulina, and ground flax seeds; and often a cup of microwaved egg whites) and pack my lunch into my messenger bag.

It takes the cats about 15 minutes or so to eat, so all this while I have to keep a lookout to what's going on with their food and correct any errant felines. Hissing works for the two hearing cats, but Patches, being mostly deaf, requires moving physically. Often I end up herding her across the room with my feet like a footballer**, which looks pretty comical.

There is so much going on that I sometimes end up forgetting a step. Not always, or even often, but when the step I am most likely to leave out is to give Patches her injection, it's a problem. That happened this morning. Luckily I remembered in time to call rfunk and he was able to go back and inject her. But I feel really bad about sending him back because he had to navigate the snowy, now slightly icy, driveway twice (thankfully he didn't get stuck).

Clearly I need to rethink my morning plan. I think I'll try posting a morning to-do checklist in the kitchen to remind me of all the steps in my routine. A friend with an ADD child had such notes posted around their house and it seems to work for her.


Much of this madness is a result of having to feed all three cats indoors. When the weather is better I can feed Ki and Barney outside, where they are happy to stay during the day (major advantage of living on a farm. Of course, working interior doors would also help with the food separation issue.) Life will be much easier come the thaw.

*I was sure I had mentioned this before, but looking back over my recent entries it doesn't look like it. Probably because the whole thing seems so ludicrous.

**Embrace your inner Anglophile, I say.