Scruffy's been increasingly cranky about being touched below his "waist" - or however you would describe the lower regions of his chunky little body. And he seems - although he's still hopping up on the bathroom sink and the table beside my chair and stuff without appearing to have any difficulty - but he seems stiffer and less mobile somehow. I had had an appointment for chiropractic follow-up back in December, which I cancelled because of the weather and then never got around to making another one. So, this morning, we got up early - a lot earlier than planned because Milk had a seizure at 6:30 AM - and got ready - oh, so casually so as not to alert the Cranky One! Who, in that mystical way cats have, apparently was fully aware that I planned to cram him into the carrier again and drag him someplace where he didn't want to go for the 3rd time in a week. And who, immediately, disappeared into the lower reaches of the house. I went downstairs, accompanied by the sea of furry creatures that trails along behind me everywhere I go (except for Milk, who was under the couch upstairs) to try and grab Scruffy and get on the way. No luck. I got out the feather toy - although he did watch Tootle play with it, he wasn't about to come near it himself. And then he started racing around the perimeter of the room, behind all the furniture and Rege's boxes and bags and folders and junk. I opened the sliding door - thinking that he would never be able to resist peeking outside from downstairs, where the door is almost never open, but it wasn't enough to entice him, either. I finally located him behind the recliner. I climbed on it, reached around the back and attempted valiantly to grab him by his scruff. He's bulky, and quite strong, and there's NO loose skin anywhere. Eventually, it was quite clear that I wasn't gonna be able to get hold of anything but one of his front legs and I'd better do THAT fast because he was about to squirt out of my reach. So, apologizing fervently, I dragged him around the corner of the chair by his leg, and plunked him in the carrier. And he hissed and spit and POUTED the entire one-hour trip to Vanport. He actually sat with his back to me in the car - meaning he was looking at the closed end of the cat carrier most of the trip. Even when I stuck my finger in the grill and tried to pet him - no interest.
When we got to the office, they called him in almost right away, but the vet didn't come for about ten minutes. He carried on royally about getting OUT of the carrier. When I slide the kitty pi out, which always works because he just sits curled up in it and ignores everyone - even that wasn't a success - he climbed out of it in the carrier and let it go without him. Expressing his displeasure required quite a lot of hissing and spitting. And in the meantime, the technician said she had to poke around him - for a "required" wellness exam - and that included the ultimate insult, temperature-taking. Needless to say, not a happy camper by the time the vet arrived in the room.
More hissing during the treatment, and personalized glares that include eye squinching so we'd know he MEANT it followed. There was one spot in the middle of his back that provoked the most violent reaction yet. All in all, the whole treatment took only a couple of minutes. I asked about the possibility of his having arthritis in those hips. Dr. K. said - examining what he could of them through the spitting and commotion - that he thought that xrays would be necessary to be sure, and that he could give me a sample tablet of a glucosamine preparation he uses in his practice. I told him about Scruffy's telling the animal communicator that he didn't NEED cosequin any more. (I thought he, of all people, would appreciate that story; didn't appear to...)
Anyway, we left it that I would bring Scruffy back for a follow-up adjustment after the surgery and the cone-wearing-period were over. Which I'm sure would be just fine and dandy for the Puffer.
Additional comments - teeth are a mess. (Yes, I know.) About two pounds overweight, at 12 pounds, 8 ounces. (Well, he's solid, that's for sure.) He's not happy being here. (Duh.)
Oh, and most of the way home, Scruffy was SO happy he spent most of the trip rolling around on his back, with his feet in the air! Rubbing and purring and rolling. It was hysterical. So, I guess we can conclude with some reliability that the treatment worked....
SCRUFFYPUMPKINPATTYPAWS An emaciated unneutered male of indeterminate age who wandered into my sister's garage in 11/03 ~~~ diagnosed with diabetes on 10/29/04 ~~~ had laser surgery for iris melanosis in 9/2008 ~~~ diagnosed with glaucoma in 6/2010 ~~~diagnosed with kidney failure and lymphoma of liver and spleen on 1/23/12 ~~~ My beloved Scruffy left us on 3/5/12.
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