Our Cat, The Specialist

She faced imminent death - one year ago. At 4 pounds and losing, our then 11-year-old kitty cat was being held hostage by the scourge of all cat afflictions: hyperthyroidism. We were preparing to lose her, at any moment. We had done everything humanly possible to save her. Then yogurt was suggested and overnight, our lives changed.

Hyperthyroidism had become the commander-in-chief of our cat's life. By the spring of 2014, however, it began its virulent descent, into her body, with a vengeance. Her interest in eating the canned version of her life-saving food, - Y.D. Thyroid Care -10 years in development, began to seriously wane. This special diet - in both dry and canned forms - had kept her swinging since her diagnosis, two years earlier. But suddenly, she stopped eating the canned form of her special food. She could no longer tolerate it. ... “Thanks, mom, but I am sick of this Y.D. food. I need a change”, she seemed to say throughout this period. (Thankfully, she ate the dry version of her special diet, but only at night, helping to assuage her malfunctioning thyroid, along with frequent changes of water.) My anxiety level rose. (I loved her so, my 'just a cat'!) ... There were no other food alternatives, only foods containing the dreaded iodine, the element that was methodically destroying her thyroid and killing her.

Throughout his medical crisis, I worried about our cat's brain, heart, lungs, liver and kidney. This diet rocky road could not be a cushioning fit for these critical organs, in a body with an out-of-control  thyroid gland, the supreme ruler and command central of her metabolic life. ... She was rebelling against the medical establishment in favour of real food like tuna, seafood and other protein dinners with egg and green vegetables, these timeless healthy food choices, high in iodine, yet, her enemy! She ate raw meat but for only a few days. She was the boss, in charge of her day time eating ritual. Oh, my! Ignoring her wishes would let her starve. We knew. She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it. We understood and had to obey, the doctor and I soon realized. If this was a death sentence, she was the executioner. And so we waited. The truth of her decisions, however, began to tell another story she had not imagined. She threw up continually as her body rejected these personal primal food choices. Would she smarten up and eat the right food before she wasted away to nothing and died? I worried, silently. Though she was fragile and getting weaker, she still managed to groom herself and purr whenever I entered her '5-star hotel' room. Five months of weekly food changes were slowly coming to an end, however. The summer was drawing to a close, too, as was the time we had together. After 30 dinner selections within a 5 brand range had been offered, I was running out of healthy high protein diet options - not patience. The food choice drought was here. An 'ally' in our dietary dilemma throughout, however, seemed to be her vomiting, that involuntary mechanism that told her the food she was eating was too rich, too high in iodine, absolutely wrong and the reason for her 'sickness'. Within hours or days, she would realize she'd made a bad decision. She simply vomited. ... Oh My! I would return, regularly, to Global Pets, hoping for a miracle food that would end her suffering and my search for the perfect food. Eventually, we hit on a winner, a chicken pot-pie recipe to delight her taste buds, over and over again. “I think you got it, mommy.” she replied, one day. This is the one.” ... (She loved it for over a year.)

It was early September, 2014, when the owner of our local Global Pet store suggested yogurt as a panacea for her digestive problems. Her litter box was always full but she was losing weight. (The food was passing through her, not staying long enough to become her.) Then her health picture began to change dramatically as kitty began to eat the high fat, high protein Greek yogurt. Every morning she received a small serving of this miracle fermented dairy. (The miracle of probiotics, the delicate gut balance of bacteria that aids in overall health had come into play.) Finally, the poker game we had been playing most of the year was done. It was a now new day. She began to gain weight, ounce by precious ounce. Reading her mind for the past year had become a daunting exercise for me. Now everything seemed to make sense, according to our cat, the veterinarian specialist. She loved the yogurt and the chicken pot pie and, miraculously, her relenting vomiting ceased.

It is now Sept. 2015. Our kitty is telling us yet another story, the best one to date. She was now getting tired of the Gammie's Chicken Pot-Pie. “Mom, I think I should go back to what I was eating last year, to the Y.D. canned food. Remember that, mom? I hated it then, but I was also sick with a serious bladder infection and now I think I need to go back to it.” she seemed to say. Soon after her morning meal of Greek yogurt, last year, her weight of 4 pounds began to climb, reaching an incredible 8 pounds 5 ounces, by Christmas and remaining steady, thereafter. ... It was the miracle we had been praying for. ... Last year, her constant vomiting had told her to make the necessary dietary changes. (Animals know stuff, too!) Now, she was telling me a new truth: “Mom, I feel funny deep inside. Maybe, I have been eating the pot-pie long enough. Something is not right here,” she was thinking. A new set of tests revealed never before, very high, outside the reference range, enzyme levels of her thyroid and liver. We were saddened by the news. The next day, I re-acquainted her with the canned Y.D she'd despised since last year. Our food choices were gone. The time had come for a return to the good 'ole days when she ate her special diet full time. She now accepted. Her doctor was thrilled. I was ecstatic. We had come full circle. Had these new dietary changes – a return to the original – come too late for it to matter much, anymore? Time would tell. ...

In three weeks, a blood sample would be taken. (Had eating Y.D., full time, during this period, now, have a measurable effect on her thyroid and liver enzymes, the focus of her newest life game?) ... I reacted to call display, four days later. It was the clinic calling. The verdict was in! The doctor's tone seemed to tell a happy tale, though. ... Kitty's numbers were down significantly, still outside the reference ranges of the thyroid and liver enzymes, of course, (they always had been) but much lower than they were several weeks ago. Kitty was always trending in her own way. A remarkable step, a remarkable transformation. ... She was now eating Y.D full time and enjoying it, too. 

From the beginning, we had done our best to reflect what kitty wanted and expected. I watched her reactions to the varied food selections, knowing they were wrong. But she was in charge, not us! Rarely did she eat any one dinner for more than 4 days in a row - but at least she was eating. The alternative was starvation and certain death! Her body had been telling her mind what to do, from the beginning. I would observe, interpret what she was doing with her food, record my findings, then act on this new information. I kept precise records. Labels from rejected food were also kept to remind me not to go there again. New foods were introduced, whenever she rejected what she had been eating. She was in charge, after all.  Where this would all lead was a medical mystery.

(Fresh water and a single layer of dry food were critical. Cats, I learned, detest their own saliva, therefore, there must be no 'touching'.) ...Time was of the essence. I had to find the 'key' to her dietary dilemma. Every conceivable treatment protocol from oral to topical medication had been tried, then quickly dismissed. They were killing her and they were costly. She could die a natural death or hasten it with conventional drugs. The wisdom of life rested with her.  She was the specialist. We had to trust her. She was in charge of her case.  Only she knew what was best for her. The rules were meant to be broken, as all rules are, from time to time. Not every medical treatment protocol makes sense to an animal. In the final analysis, they know when enough is enough. We must respect that choice. 

Today, 12-year old Tiggy's weight is 8 pounds, 8 ounces, the greatest news in many months. She is being combed regularly and dry brushed as well. (Dry brushing is a 'reverse towards the heart' brushing technique that helps de-stress the adrenal glands.) We all have adrenal glands. This technique calms her. (She loves the brush as she beckons me to use it on her, all over, even her head and neck. She is so sweet!) Her hair ball episodes have been reduced by 80% from last year. It has been a miraculous health revolution for her.  She is now enjoying her special food in ways never imagined.  Last year it had been rejected outright. (I wondered, daily, if she would live long enough to return to it.) Now, it is welcomed. She is calmer, happier, more playful; her sleeps, more restful, sound. She plays with new toys in a way that reflects her new found freedom from ill health and fear. She has learned the lesson.

Our cat, the specialist, is one bonafide expert in what works for her. Though the creators of her life-saving thyroid food advise no other foods be given and all bowls, used, be washed very well, our little girl has lived to tell us there is another chapter to write. We have all been amazed at her storytelling skill. ... A new beginning has arrived. What's next, Dr. Kitty?

Momsey's Doggie Boarding Camp

It would be the longest stretch in Momsey's doggie boarding camp history. Mall cop's mom and dad were going away on a much needed summer vacation, indulging in the culture and excitement of another country's majestic surroundings. They would be gone 9 days. The wedding at the end would punctuate the close of 10 days without the 'children.' 

Mall Cop and Ella arrived looking for a good time. They were still the same little ones I'd had the previous week, during their dad's day-long business trip. The terrier and the mini-schnauzer would join 'Sally' and Mr. Wiggles, their retriever cousins. The beds of these visiting 'dognitaries' had been mistakenly left behind. No problem. The human sofa was ready, covered in that ever so soft special blanket they all loved to sniff. These were adorable children. I did not mind changing up my routine to accommodate them. Comfort was always a primary concern for them. Dogs never complain like we do. They routinely suffer in silence. I would sit on the floor, if necessary, closer to the action and nuzzling, anyway! 

At doggie boarding camp, movement and chewing time are paramount daytime activities. Inactivity is the enemy for animals and people alike. Morning breakfast waits as the group begins its exercise routine after the morning ritual of body 'cleansing'. The intensive exercise begins with each group following a different movement protocol. ... Mall Cop and Ella love chasing each other, at speeds only seen in cartoons. It is indeed a funny performance. When Mall Cop ceases to comply, Ella barks in rapid succession as if to say, "Get moving, brother dear, this is not a rest stop.” His reluctance to move, on command, signals yet another round of chasing, barking and doggie threats made by his demanding little sister, Ella. ... And so he moves, ever so quickly, just in case. ... Mr. Wiggles and Sally tug tenaciously at their lattice silicone soccer ball with the two 'squeaky' tennis balls tucked inside, while running, in tandem, at top speed, too. The energy dissipates with a congenial connection amongst the furry cousins the result. 

A routine is established immediately. Ten days is a long time with no plan or direction. Periods of intense exercise, twice daily, are mandated. (We cannot have chunky working its way into the waistlines of these critters, I adore.) A morning appetizer of cucumber sticks, watermelon slices and other seasonal fruit seems to quell their urge to dine, too early, after working out. Once established, this boarding camp courtesy can never ever be forgotten. Mall Cop and Mr. Wiggles stand, like palace guards, ever so sternly, staring at Momsey till the fruit or veggie platter arrives. I know. I dare not disappoint! Their glares remind me of my on-going duty to provide these raw morsels of 'goodnesses', on-time and in quick fashion, as expected. They never forget. They are on holidays, too, I am reminded, steadily. ... At this time of year, summer's bounty is readily available so the exotic, for them, is anything fresh. Berries, apples, pineapple and cucumbers slices are on the menu. 

Working out on a full stomach is a dangerous habit to establish, however. I worry about torsion or bloat, even with small dogs like Ella and Mall Cop. Though bloat is a large dog, deep chested fatal condition, you just never never know. Momsey does not take chances. (Mr. Wiggles suddenly stopped running, late one afternoon, and lay down very slowly, outside. What had I done to cause this change in his demeanour? A last minute doctor's visit for this strange behaviour, mid-exercise, removed any cause for concern. He was fine. ... (Intense exercise, on a full stomach, is never a wise step for man or beast.) ... Separating each brother/sister duo for their allotted time outside, helps in giving them what their bodies and mind need. ... With mosquitoes in abundance, though, my time is cut short, outside. These miniature warriors seem to savour what my flesh seems to offer. As each four-footed fluffy group runs, sniffs and eats some grass through the chain link fence, I keep moving to keep those pesky air-born dive-bombers, at bay. (When will they move away and leave me alone, I am thinking?) They should have been gone by now but a lot of rain this summer has descended upon the province giving these insects the moisture required to thrive and survive. Other areas of the country were dealing with wild fires from a summer of drought. I do not complain.

Mall Cop's running prowess is well-known. Short spurts of this intense leg action is beyond belief! ... His ability to grab his sister's back leg in his mouth, while attempting to put her head in there, too, makes for an interesting physics experiment. "How does he do that"? I am puzzled, often. But Ella masters the whole event, like the gymnast she is, while engaging her brother, repeatedly. She is quick yet graceful as she bounces, like a gazelle, in mid-flight, then pounces over her brother, Mall Cop. Her barks tell him in no uncertain terms, “ You can't catch me and by the way, nibble me again and I will jump all over you and tackle you, quickly, without hesitation. ... I have tricks you rarely see, brother dear.” He ignores her as he ponders the universe. ...

Mall Cop loves the warmth of a summer's day beaming down on his jet black coat. With straw blanketing the area, he rolls around, in a world of his own, watching and waiting for mom and dad's return from their vacation shenanigans, in a far-off summer paradise . “Why couldn't they have taken me along, he wonders? I could easily have fit inside a duffle bag, dad!” "But that was not the point of the holiday," I would reply. Your holiday is here with your sister and cousins and a platter of yummy morsels." “Yes, you are right, he seems to say, begrudgingly.” Mr. Wiggles waits ever so patiently, to run and join the club. His larger than life antics and high energy still belies his gentle nature. But first he must chew some grass, then walk along side his cousins, with a gift, in his mouth, in case his cousins need him.

I manage to get them moving, exercising those nimble paws, legs and pumping blood throughout the body. I concern myself with clots if they are inactive too long. Sleeping long-term is no joke. ... There are antlers bones amidst the rubber balls and toys, inside, keeping their mouths in motion, gums massaged and the teeth cleaned. We all must move, not necessarily to the absurd, like our Mr. Wiggles, but move we must. Indoors, they all begin that telltale dance, again, that reminds me to open the doors for them to 'take it outside', one final time, as evening approaches. At the close of business day, all are exhausted and wait for the final trip outside for that long night ahead on the sofa. The platter of apple slices are soon forthcoming. It is an important part of their daily ritual, like exercise and sleep.

All four pups are well rehearsed in proper sleep time etiquette. Unlike the business of boarding pets for long stretches of time, while their owners are away, my little charges are not in cages, anymore. That containment policy was gone months ago. They proved themselves, beyond a shadow of doubt, that they could be trusted. The furniture is fine, so is the carpet and so are they. Good night my sweet puppies. See you in the morning.

Sourdough: The next frontier.....