A closed face makes an about-face
After a short stay at the vet, Phantom seems pleased to be home
ONE MORNING, when I’m cleaning Phantom’s room, I find a lot of vomit on the floor. I know immediately we have a problem.
This elderly cat never throws up. Eating wet and dry food has never been a problem for him. Now, from what I can see, he’s vomited up his food only once or twice, and it’s chunky, as if he’s eaten so much that his stomach has rejected the load.
When Phantom first joined us, over a year ago, it was very difficult to tell what he was feeling. His face and body indicated no emotion. I couldn’t tell if he was hungry, angry, happy.
As he slowly began to trust me and his surroundings, his face relaxed. I could actually see his enjoyment over a special treat or a good brushing, or even when he was calculating how far he had to leap to reach another cat and beat him up.
Now, as I look at him, his face seems closed again. This cat isn’t going to tell me anything.
Because of his age, my vet has advised a blood test each year, just to track his body’s functions and to catch any potential problem early enough. As an afterthought, I ask her to test for pancreatitis too.
You see pancreatitis often in elderly animals –and in people too. The pancreas is a vital organ, producing enzymes to help with digestion and hormones that regulate blood sugar levels and digestion.
With pancreatitis, the pancreas gets inflamed, affecting these two important functions. The problem is that symptoms seem to be different for each animal. Dogs with pancreatitis may lose their appetite, vomit, have a high or low temperature, or all sorts of other symptoms.
Cats with pancreatitis might vomit, or they may stop eating, or show no interest in their surroundings.
Or your cat or dog may not show any symptoms at all.
Without treatment, the problem may clear up on its own, if the inflammation is mild, or lead to problems in the digestive tract or to kidney failure. Left untreated, it may worsen until the unfortunate animal dies in a lot of pain.
Phantom’s blood tests return, showing that all his organs are functioning normally. Based on these results, the boy is probably the healthiest animal in my mini-zoo.
The test for pancreatitis comes back positive. This test doesn’t tell you much more than he has pancreatitis. We don’t know if he’s had it a long time, or how bad it is.
We are hopeful, though, that we caught it in its early stages. At the clinic, he is hydrated, given antibiotics, fed special low-fat catfood, and monitored carefully.
When I visit him, his face is completely blank. He raises his head, but when I scratch his chin, he turns his face away and bites on the line of liquid into his leg that’s hydrating him. The good news is that he hasn’t vomited at all, and he’s eating just fine.
Yet his face doesn’t say anything about feeling better. Is he still sick? Even the vet can’t tell. He may just be unhappy about being in a cage in the clinic. When she takes the line out of his leg, he perks up a little bit.
At home, I think about Phantom’s face a lot, and the next day, I arrange for him to come home.
Talk about an instant about-face! He checks out his room happily, he rushes around; he even tries to fight a couple of cats who are passing by.
He’ll be on antibiotics for another 10 days and the tasteless low-fat food even longer, but that’s no problem. In the middle of the night, he summons me upstairs. He wants to be brushed.
After all, he’s home.
