I took my cat Cinnamon (nicknamed Sino) to the vet this weekend. He was getting sick all over the house, even on some of my books! Not only was it annoying, but I was concerned. Sino is 12 years old and our other cat Baby (Duforth) died last year at 13 years, so I wanted to be more vigilant about his health.
Although my dearly departed Duforth never enjoyed her trips to the vet, her vocal complaints were kept to a minimum and she was a very good patient. Not my Sino. His file at the Astoria Veterinary Group labels him a "Caution Cat". The minute he's carried into their waiting room, the trouble begins. His pupils become large and dark, and the growling starts low, like an evil purr.
Nothing can prepare a viewer for his actions on the examination table. He makes noises which can only be called demonic, while he thrashes at the oven-mitted vet techs. Since he is a big cat like most orange shorthairs he is doubly hard to control. At this visit 2 techs had to use towels to restrain him while they gave him tranquilizers. Soon he grew limp and relieved himself on the table. I found myself making apologies for his behavior, but that's pretty dumb. It's all him. Besides, at home he is affectionate and cuddly. Only at the vet's office does he decide to be the Hulk.
After only a few minutes into his sedation, his strength begins to return to him and he swats drunkenly at the techs as they clean his teeth and cut his nails. Finally the veternarian advises me his condition looks to be Inflammatory Bowel Disorder. Somehow he has inherited a disease common to my family! This is besides the fact that he sort of resembles my dad. Sino is prescribed 2 kinds of pills to be administered daily, preferably by the mouth. Right. I'm gonna try to pry his fangs open and throw pills down there. My sister, a former vet tech, can't do it!
So now we have a month of sneaking meds into my cat's food. Of course, he is discerning and tries to eat around it, but he must be getting some of it into his system. He hasn't made a mess since Sunday.