I blogged yesterday about the summer cold that has been tearing at my very being the past week. I am just now emerging from drowning in my mucus-laden lungs and able to, once again, inhale some quality O2.
I guess my cat felt that my being ill was detracting far too much from the over adoration I oh-so-normally dote on her and decided that two could play at this game.
So, like a true drama queen, upon arrival at home, Pancake puked three times (that I could find) and meowed incessantly the most pathetic little mews that ever mewed until I thought my heart would shatter. I can’t imagine what it must be like for parents taking care of actual people/children because I was ready to rush her to the emergency room lest something more terrible be amiss!
I instantly began Googling what to do when one’s cat is sick and what the causes could be. The internet has some scary information out there and, naturally, I assumed the worst.
There was a series of manic texts to my boyfriend, the original Pancake owner, with panicked hypotheses. I was sure she had swallowed one of my hair ties, or that she poisoned herself on some cleaning supplies, or that she had cancer and cat diabetes and the flu. The boyfriend told me to relax and said that she probably is just constipated which made me want to run out and by laxatives for the poor feline to alleviate (or, I guess add a bit to) her suffering.
In the end, I relaxed and did my best to make her feel comfortable, thinking that if by morning she wasn’t well, I would call 911.
I built her a fort. She likes to be alone when she feels badly, and tends to prefer isolated dark places which aren’t in abundance in my city apartment. I constructed an epic fortress that she could feel safe dwelling with all the privacy a sick cat could hope—with me checking on her every five minutes.
Next, I brought a glass of water near to her so if she got thirsty and was unable to make it to her normal watering hole, she’d have easy quench access. Dehydration is a terrible offender with the sick and I don’t want to have to resort to a cat IV.
To offer her further comfort, I put out a heating pad for her to lay on. I read that this makes her feel like she’s not alone, while being alone (best of both worlds), and feels reassuring, like a security blanket. When it gets too warm, she can lay next to it, and when she needs it, plop back on! I certainly enjoy a warm blanket on my belly when I have a tummy ache too.
Throughout the night, the mews slowed down, she strolled around a bit, rolled around to find the best position to relax her belly, and by morning she wasn’t at 100% but she was most certainly better. No 911 calls were made…yet.
Last night, I was able to forget my own pain and suffering to ease that of my diva cat. I don’t know if all this was a ruse for more attention or to help me forget my troubles by mimicking my mannerisms and woes from the last days, but it worked. She got a fort, excessive cuddles, light play, a few snacks that she kept down (and some she didn’t), and someone else to clean up her messes without complaint.