Tag Archives: Cat Behavior

Getting Stronger

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“After all you put me through / You’d think I’d despise you / But in the end, I wanna thank you / ‘Cause you made me that much stronger / Cause if it wasn’t for all that you tried to do / I wouldn’t know just how capable I am to pull through / So I wanna say thank you / ‘Cause it makes me that much stronger / Makes me work a little bit harder / Makes me that much wiser / So thanks for making me a fighter…”

Lyrics from “Fighter” by Christina Aguilera

I pulled a Christina Aguilera CD out of my collection and popped it into the CD player in my car for some listening pleasure on the way to an appointment at Hoag.  My strength and energy, which were slowly making a comeback since my final cancer treatment seven weeks prior were waning.  I started feeling worse—not better.   My nurse reminded me that healing isn’t linear, but to make sure nothing else was going on, she had a couple blood tests ordered.  I drove along the coast singing empowering phrases along with Christina’s powerful voice, feeling momentarily rejuvenated, and thanking cancer for making me stronger in so many ways, despite all it put me through.

I wasn’t the only one in the household dealing with health issues.  Samantha had a debilitating bout of feline idiopathic cystitis or FIC (inflamed bladder with no apparent cause) in early June.  We’d been back and forth to the vet four times in one month.  FIC is hard to treat because it has no identifiable cause, such as infection.  Many cats that get FIC are neurologically hardwired a little differently in that they are extra sensitive to noise and tend to be in a constant state of “fight or flight”, triggering an over reactive stress response causing bladder inflammation. FIC is also more prevalent in males and overweight cats (the above link covers all risk factors).  FIC can be outgrown, but it can also be a life-long condition to be managed.  Keeping kitty’s environment as stress-free as possible, proper diet and lots of hydration are the best medicine.

Upon learning all of this, I had an “ah ha” moment revealing what triggered the initial episode in Samantha being with me (she’d had it with her prior human, but wasn’t treated properly and it turned into bladder stones).  It was a few nights before she displayed symptoms when I had a meltdown at 2:00 a.m. from being so beat-up from the cumulative effect of cancer treatments.  The relentless GI issues that kept me from sleep and intense hives that could not be cured with any sort of meds caused me to belt out a scream of shear frustration and defeat that night.  I was so tired, and sick of being sick that I lost it—until in the middle of that manic moment, Samantha came to mind and stifled my outburst.  I got out of bed and turned on a light, and found her in the living room sitting upright and ridged facing the bedroom.  “Oh sweetie!  I’m so sorry!” I said through sobs as I hugged her.  She looked up at me and started anxiously blinking her eyes over and over as though she was trying to calm me, but I think she was also trying to calm herself.  Here she was still adjusting to a new home, and to my energy that was going in a downward spiral as radiation progressed, and now she was faced with cat mom gone mad.

Guilt weighed heavy on my heart for weeks.  I let it go when I realized that manic moment was normal given my situation, and more important, part of Samantha’s healing regimen included me.  I had to muster up enough strength not just to get through the final leg of radiation but also for Samantha’s well being.  I had to be strong for her.  I had to be positive for her.  It wasn’t just about me anymore.

My blood test results turned out to be fine.  Feeling debilitated on occasion along the way is part of the healing path.  In hindsight, I was doing too much.  Now, besides getting more rest and not pushing myself, I’ve turned to doing more things that cultivate healing, which in turn, are helping Samantha.  The energy in the cottage is more peaceful. I’m feeling better and more grounded.  And Samantha—she’s become more playful again; more affectionate and is showing outward signs of de-stressing.

I made the side patio escape-proof and created a catio! It’s been a joy to work on and Samantha’s stress levels have diminished (work in progress, here).

Catio complete!

Cottage Cat

Purrmaid Garden

Rearranging furniture and decor has been cathartic.

Samantha approves!

This book has daily messages of inspiration; it’s been so helpful. I read a passage each morning.

Sending loving vibes to you all!

Eight Days and Nine Nights of Sunshine

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Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been feeling ready to invite a new kitty into my life, which has caused me to reflect on an adoption attempt I made last spring.

By June of 2020, Bobcat had gained weight and became diabetic since his best friend Lexington passed in December of 2019. He was still affectionate and attentive towards me, yet seemed so sad.  I came to the conclusion that a new friend; specifically a girlfriend, would be good medicine for Bobcat.

I began my search spending several weeks of reviewing cat bios on Petfinder, finding only two prospectives.  After no response to my inquiries from the shelters, I moved on. Another cat of interest was at a shelter run by just one woman who did call me back, sounding out of breath saying that she had too much going on, but she would call me back at 7:00 that evening.  She never did.  Trying to find a girlfriend for Bobcat was becoming as arduous as online dating.

After a two-week break I got back on rescue websites to give it another shot.  Within an hour I found two prospective girlfriends for Bobcat and got a call back from the director of the rescue group. The two cats in question had already been adopted, but she invited me to a PetSmart adoption event happening that weekend.

Me: Bobcat, I’m off to PetSmart to find you a girlfriend! Bobcat: A what?…

I arrived at the PetSmart adoption center on Saturday morning and immediately noticed a pretty two-year-old girl named Sunshine.  Her bio stated that she was sweet and sociable. Perfect.  Sunshine bonded with me instantly, and I adopted her on the spot.

Sunshine, photo courtesy of Susan Brown Matsumoto Photography

On the drive home I began to feel apprehensive.  While Sunshine seemed like a good fit for Bobcat, She did not tug at my heartstrings.  I suddenly felt I’d made a hasty decision, made in the moment out of tiring of the selection process, and just wanting Bobcat to have a friend.  In the past, I always knew upon meeting my prospective new cat—sometimes just by looking at the photo that he or she was the one.  Yet, I’d “sleep on it” before making my final decision to adopt.  If I woke-up the day after meeting the potential adoptee with the same excitement I had upon our meeting, I scheduled another visit.  If the same warm-fuzzy feelings filled my heart during the second visit, I’d adopt. Unbeknownst to me at the time, that apprehension was my intuition giving me a warning, just the same as the strong “knowing” I’ve had when the right cat came along.

Sunshine was sweet and sociable and was also pure alpha—domineering, aggressive and possessive of me. In my attempts to bring the cats into each other’s space I broke up two catfights, one that landed me in urgent care with serious cat scratches and another with Bobcat at the vet for a scratched eyelid.  Bobcat became withdrawn and spent lots of time hiding.

Is she gone yet?

The circumstance had become unhealthy and very stressful for everyone involved, so I relinquished Sunshine to the shelter.  She was a wonderful cat, but not for us.  Once she was gone, Bobcat and I rekindled our love and life was peaceful again.

Ahhh, I’m in the clear, she’s outta here!

In retrospect, I realized that Bobcat just needed more time to grieve, not a stranger invading our space and our one-on-one time together.

I felt horrible having to return Sunshine and guilty that I added more stress to her life.  I wished I’d been more discerning, but I couldn’t go back and undo the situation.  I found solace when I heard that she was adopted a couple of weeks later, and was reminded to always listen to my internal insight.

Let’s see who my intuition will lead me to this time around…stay tuned!

Cat Lady’s Diagnosis

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I couldn’t get the doctor’s words, “…you’ve got cancer” out of my head as I drove home from the appointment.  After the doctor delivered the ominous news, I felt out-of-body, numb. “Okay…”  I said without sheading a tear.  I’d heard this diagnosis with three of my beloved cats, and each time, I cried.

Miss Bella

Topper

Lexington

But, I couldn’t cry for myself.  I just sat there robotically asking questions about what to do next and treatment.  I was relieved that finally, I had a diagnosis, a proposed treatment plan (depending on if the cancer had metastasized) and that I was in the hands of an experienced, compassionate cancer specialist with Hoag Hospital.  I drove down Pacific Coat Highway, devoid of emotion, but my mind was anxiously active. I’d known that something was going haywire in my body, but, seriously, cancer?  Despite the cancer-related symptoms, a ten-centimeter mass in my uterus, and an oncologist’s diagnosis, I could not believe in something so threatening.  As I approached Crystal Cove, an uncontrollable sob shook me.

By the time I got home, the sobbing stopped, but the internal running commentary continued: Oh my God, I have cancer. What if it metastasized? How do I tell my parents? What if I get too sick to take care of Bobcat?

I would need chemotherapy and surgery. Thoughts raced over the things I’d have to do before my first chemo treatment: get a CAT scan, a biopsy, more blood work; tell my boss; take medical leave; file for disability—and what I had to do that afternoon—tell my parents and my friends who knew I had an appointment with an oncologist.

My mind stopped spinning when Bobcat jumped onto the sofa and cozied-up by my side. He looked up at me and began to purr.  I leaned over and wrapped my arms around him, rested my chin on his head and took a deep breath.  Bobcat grounded me.  After a long cat hug, I sat up and announced to Bobcat, “I have cancer.” It was no longer a thought spinning in my head.  I spoke the words, sending the diagnosis out into the universe, making it real.  With the comfort of my cat came an acceptance of this new reality.  I made my first move towards coping with it and picked up the phone.

My parents took the news with grace and strength, and so did my dear friends.  Everyone went into supportive action offering help with anything I needed.  By the end of that afternoon a “Help Cat Lady Kick Cancer” support team was created.

I tackled all those things I was so worried about with my team by my side, checking-up on me, cheering at the great news that the cancer did not spread, bringing meals, groceries, keeping the cottage tidy, and taking care of Bobcat when I was too weak to feed him and clean his litter box.

And with my loving feline companion by my side lending a comforting paw, I’m never alone.