Sunday, 18 September 2016

Our Miracle Kitty-Cat!


She is our inspiration, our miracle girl. Thirteen years ago, on the shoulder of a rarely used country road, in -25 degree Celsius weather, I found her, dying. She had not crawled there. She had been dumped there, for a painfully slow death. She was just a baby, an infant kitten, maybe 8-9 weeks old. In It Was a Brutal, Barbaric Way to Die, May, 2012, I wrote about our first meeting on that frigidly cold morning. How could anyone leave any baby animal to die like that? Well, we now know many do. Pets are society's easy victims and its scapegoats.

We kept the tiny kitten, after her week's stay at the emergency hospital, where the bill exceeded $600. (Only 50% of it was to be paid, thanks to the generosity of the doctor on duty.) The kitten's new family was fascinated by her 'charm' and 'insatiable' thirst for knowledge. She snapped at all of us. But we waited. (For better or for worse, she was ours, forever.) Her night-time antics in the bedroom, shared by an adult 'brother' made for many sleepless nights until she realized the evenings were not hers for adventure, while the rest of us slept. Her walks across the keyboard computer, in the wee hours of the morning, did not make for a happy roommate. But there was no other place to keep her confined, till day time, our time, arrived. Eventually, she honed her kitty cat skills and began to like her new home, a safe predictable place in which to be.

In 2012, her health status changed, rocking her world and ours, incorporating a new debilitating chronic disease about which I have written. She became this soldier of misfortune, dealing with this ongoing menace: hyperthyroidism. Standard protocols, albeit costly, were dismissed outright. There were risk factors inherent. A new diet arrived on the scene,10 years in development, to re-mediate her health crisis. It gave us hope. And it did for two years when suddenly Tiggy began to reject this special diet food, the only food she could eat. (A dry version was eaten at night). All she wanted was iodine-rich dinner choices, death sentences in disguise. The doctor and I could only hope she would live long enough to rethink her ghastly food decisions. We reluctantly went along with her plan.

High iodine choices such as her much sought-after fish and seafood dinners made her happy, in the short term, until she began to vomit. Her body was 'talking' to her. Giving her what she wanted not what she needed was creating her dietary dilemma. But at least she was eating. Maybe, she knew something we did not! Forcing her to eat her special food was simply an invitation to starvation. She was doing what her body was telling her to do. By the time she dropped to 4 pounds, from a healthy lifetime weight of over 10 pounds, in early September 2014, I sensed the end was near. She was frail, bony and meowed in a barely audible whisper. She was also, inadvertently, creating another health crisis - fatty liver disease, a fatal assault on her liver. She was going to die! I mourned her impending death. Then Greek yogurt was introduced and like magic, the fermented food changed everything. By Christmas of 2014, she had stabilized to 9 pounds, a weight she has maintained till today.The owner of Global Pet, Keswick, Ontario had saved her life with his yogurt suggestion.

Two weeks ago, Tiggy stopped using the litter box for liquid waste. Something new had happened. But what, I wondered? (Tiggy is in her 14th year.) Had her thinking changed to make her behave in a more acrimonious manner? In a room, with carpet, I began to shudder. Was 'missing' the litter box her way of getting even with me? We had always treated her with respect, kindness and love. Was she trying to tell me something? Was she arthritic? In pain? She seemed fine, as far as I could see. A quick visit to the doctor for blood and basic urine test revealed her thyroid gland, the troublemaker at the bottom of her multi-year 'disease', was in great shape. It had never been better! It was in the 40 range, a number in the middle range of normal, never before recorded. We were thrilled but she had lost a pound in 15 days. Such a dichotomy. Even the doctors were fazed by it all. Yogurt, stopped months earlier, was now re-introduced to help with weight gain. It worked. Within two weeks she had regained nearly all her lost weight and was now using the litter box, most of the time. Her mystery continues.

Throughout the last several months, I have been 'dry' brushing my girl, daily, a simple treatment option lauded for its health benefits, on the human body, by reducing cortisol production of the adrenal glands, for 5-8 hours. If dry brushing was good for us then it might be great for animals, too, I mused. Tiggy loved the brush on her head, in its gentle downward motion, towards her neck and heart. From the top of her tail, the brush was brought backwards, towards the heart, in the gentle sweeping motion she adored. She seemed to bask in the warmth of the brush strokes on her body. Had dry brushing relaxed both her, her thyroid and reduced stress on her body? Our beautiful girl has not vomited in over six weeks, with only 7 episodes since the beginning of the year! It is no longer a concern in our aging kitty. Healthy cats do it. But our miracle girl does not. Had dry brushing, this new health protocol, affected her stress levels thereby helping produce better lab results? Momsey does not know. But Momsey believes it so. Dry brushing is her new addiction. It should be ours.

Our Tiggy has been a fractious kitty, from the beginning, an animal who liked no one and tolerated me. But over the years she embraced the family culture of two people totally devoted to her well being. She taught us to never to give up on her, even when death came knocking, several times. She became an experiment, an anomoly. I was never what one might call a cat person, until I met my Tiggy, our miracle girl. It is amazing how duty to a defenseless creature, one frigidly cold morning, years earlier, made us believers in a new species, in the love of 'just a cat'.

She should have died, in that -26C temperature morning, on a lonely stretch of country road, in 2003, as a former tiny discarded litter mate, then of slow starvation from her death-defying food choices with the sometimes fatal, fatty liver disease, lurking nearby, in the Spring of 2014. But as her hyperthyroidism and its demonic affects on her health, took hold, she began to listen. I watched. I listened. I learned. Happy endings are possible.

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