My Cat is a Jerk

One of his more ‘special’ expressions…

It’s International Cat Day and normally I would be joining in with the thousands of people sharing adorable pictures of their little furry companions across social media today along…

However, my cat is not particularly adorable this week. In fact, he’s a bit of a jerk.

I’ve had Poppy for over twelve years. He (yes, I know it’s a girl’s name – I thought he was a girl until he suddenly sprouted boy bits a few months after I rescued him, and by that point the name had stuck) came to me in a bag along with his sister after a horrible start in his little life. They were five weeks old, far too young to be away from their mother and in a mess – fleas, ear mites, stomach problems – I still can’t believe that they survived the first few months. He was so small that he still had blue eyes and could fit in the palm of my hand.

Compared to his sister, Poppy has always been a little bit of a scaredy wuss. He’s never needed to fear anything, particularly as he has always been a house cat, and his daily routine has generally consisted of sleeping, eating, playing with his mountain of toys and sleeping some more. However, he has grown increasingly skittish with age, and this has worsened since his sister passed away almost two years ago (she had Type 1 diabetes that we maintained for years). 

For the last year, he has developed a slight obsession with both me and his food. He has become my shadow, crying on and off for hours, constantly nagging for food even when he has just been fed, deliberately jumping on me or knocking things off the table when I ignore him. He’s fully vaccinated, had his flea treatments and worming tablets and at his last check up the vet said he was in great physical condition, particularly for his age. After talking to a vet friend it was suggested that he may be getting a little senile – apparently animals can develop dementia in the same way that humans can…

However, we were worried last week when his, ahem, bowels weren’t right. What followed were three vets appointments – blood tests, a bile test, a full ultrasound (with sedation as he won’t keep still on the table), along with plenty of worry and TLC. At one point, we thought his liver may be potentially failing and in my head I was preparing myself for the worst and the decisions that would need to be made depending on the results. 

We got the results through yesterday…

There’s nothing bloody wrong with him, physically at least. Apparently, he’s ‘hyper-sensitive’ and his digestive tract is being mildly affected by this hyper-sensitivity. 

Of course, I’m delighted that he’s ok and it was a huge relief when we were told everything was good. However, Mr I’m-So-Spoilt-That-I-Have-My-Own-Chair has been absolutely fine today, ignoring his shaven belly and carrying on as though we haven’t just spent the last week worrying about him and dragging him back and forth to the vets. He’s been slobbing around on his blanket, occasionally waking up just to yawn, stretch and go back to sleep, and then continued the process on The Bloke’s lap this evening.

It’s a good job he’s cute. It must be his payback for dressing him up as a reindeer last Christmas…

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