Of wet whiskers and soggy chests
If your pet is drooling more than usual do take him to the vet, it might herald a problem in his mouth
YEARS AGO, a reader emailed me a question about his beloved cat, who was acting strangely.
“My cat has just started drooling,” this reader wrote. “He eats normally, acts normally. It’s just that all that moisture coming out of his mouth has started to irritate the skin on his chin and cheeks. Would you know of anything that I could put on his face that would absorb all the drool and help keep him dry?”
I could just see the unfortunate cat walking around with some sort of chin protector held in place with strings tied around his ears. Of course, it could be done, but you’d end up with one stressed-out cat, and the drooling problem wouldn’t be solved.
When your cat or dog starts drooling, do you have a problem on your hands? You might laugh and talk about Pavlov’s famous dogs, who were taught to drool when they heard a bell signalling food was on its way.
You’d probably be wrong, though.
That drooling usually signals that your pet has a problem inside his mouth. It might simply indicate that he has inflamed gums or a decayed tooth.
If you can (and know what you’re doing), open your pet’s mouth and look for the problem. Even so, your pet needs veterinary assistance. You see, the problem could be a lot worse.
The day a week ago that my one-eyed Siamese Angel died was difficult. My loving companion of all those years was gone, and I felt the need to check all the other animals in the house.
When I went up to the third floor to see elderly Phantom, he ran over to me calling urgently.
“Oh,” I thought. “This cat senses my grief.”
No. As I reached over to stroke him, I felt a lot of wetness on his chin. He had been drooling so much that even his chest was wet.
Ever since he came to live with us about a year ago, the big boy told me he had mouth problems by brushing the side of his face with his paw every once in a while. It was obvious he wasn’t grooming himself.
Cats have such delicate movements, even when they’re in trouble. Over the weeks, Phantom began brushing his face harder and harder.
When the vet checked him out, though, she couldn’t find anything. We nevertheless continued to monitor him.
Now he was drooling, and for me, the situation was more urgent. Phantom, who doesn’t usually let anyone invade his body, even let me open his mouth. I saw a lump on his gum.
I’m not a vet. I thought he had gingivitis, a gum inflammation that can be cleared up with a good mouth-cleaning.
The vet was more concerned. She took a biopsy, a slice of the lump, and sent it to the lab for examination.
“It could be nothing, but it could be cancer,” the vet warned me. The pain of Angel’s death was too recent for me to understand properly.
Instead, I waited for the biopsy results, which came in yesterday.
Well, it isn’t the worst news, but it’s not gingivitis either. Phantom’s problem is “Eosinophilic granuloma”.
In other words, he has a skin tumour in his mouth.
The tumour is not cancerous, thank goodness. It can be treated with steroids, but whether it can be cured is another matter.
We don’t know what has caused it, and we don’t know whether the steroid treatment will work. Long-term steroid use can harm the body, as athletes have found out.
My reader’s cat from years ago was much luckier. The vet found a broken tooth and removed it. The drooling stopped; the cat didn’t need a nappie wrapped around his chin after all.
