Spinal Cord Cats

"Pumpkin's Law" on this path we meet.....

2011-06-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

California Law has changed......

A state appeals court in San Francisco has ruled that a Brentwood man whose cat was partly paralyzed by a shot from a pellet gun can try to sue the alleged perpetrator for $36,000 in surgery and care costs.

The Court of Appeal, in a ruling issued Tuesday, said that even though the costs exceed the market value of Kevin Kimes' cat, California law allows him to seek the reasonable costs of repair of his property.

Pets are considered property under California law.

Kimes's cat, a long-haired orange tabby named Pumkin, was shot with a pellet gun on Oct. 28, 2005, as he sat on a fence between Kimes' and his neighbors' backyards.

Kimes, 46, a semiconductor engineer, claims in a Contra Costa County lawsuit that the neighbors--either Charles Grosser, who was then an 18-year-old student at Los Medanos College, or his father, Joseph Grosser--shot Pumkin.

The Grossers deny they had anything to do with the shooting and maintain they did not own a pellet gun, according to their lawyer, Kevin Cholakian.

"This is not the Kennedy assassination," Cholakian said. "This is a poor cat someone shot with a pellet gun. It's really terrible, but it wasn't our kid," the attorney said, referring to Charles Grosser.

The appeals court ruling did not address whether the Grossers are liable for the shooting, but merely allows Kimes to claim at a future trial that they were responsible and to seek reimbursement for $6,000 in veterinary surgery costs and $30,000 for additional care expenses.

A trial jury will decide whether the Grossers were responsible and if so, whether the $36,000 costs were reasonable.

Kimes said of the ruling, "I'm ecstatic about it. Win, lose or draw, I want to be heard in court. I want Pumkin to get his justice."

Kimes said that Pumkin, who was injured in a back leg, tail and bladder, eventually recovered about 75 percent of his mobility.

"He had a good quality of life. He could stand up and eat and walk about 20 steps. He was a real hero of mine," Kimes said.

Pumkin died of unrelated causes in 2009, he said.

The engineer also said of the decision, "Words can't describe it.

It's about time a court said that pets have some value or worth and pet owners will be able to go after people who abuse and shoot animals."

A three-judge panel of the appeals court overturned a ruling in which Superior Court Judge Barbara Zuniga said California property law would not allow Kimes to recover any compensation greater than the value of the cat, which had little or no market value.

But the appeals panel, citing a different California property rule and a 1915 California Supreme Court decision, said the law allows compensation for damage to property that has worth other than market value.

The panel said Kimes' claims meet the state Supreme Court's requirement that the non-market worth must be calculated in a rational way.

Justice James Marchiano wrote, "In this case, plaintiff is not plucking a number out of the air for the sentimental value of damaged property; he seeks to present evidence of costs incurred for Pumkin's care and treatment by virtue of the shooting--a rational way of demonstrating a measure of damages apart from the cat's market value."

Kimes said he adopted Pumkin, a stray who came to his doorstep, about two years before the shooting.

He said he was traveling in Mexico at the time of the incident. A different neighbor who was caring for Pumkin and several other cats owned by Kimes saw Pumkin sitting on the backyard fence and also saw Charles and Joseph Grosser in their backyard at the time, Kimes said.

When the neighbor returned from a jog, she saw Pumkin lying wounded on the ground and rushed him to a veterinary hospital.

Cholakian said that at the apparent time of the shooting, Charles Grosser was in a classroom at Los Medanos College.

Both sides have hired ballistics experts. Kimes said his expert says the shot must have come from the Grossers' backyard, and Cholakian said the Grossers' expert says the shot could have come from any of several directions.

In addition to allowing Kimes to pursue his claim for damages, the appeals court said the engineer could seek a punitive award as well if he can show that the shooting was intentional.

Julia Cheever, Bay City News

So what does this mean?
As I have passed the word around I have gotten mixed responses. Some feel this is foolish as 'it's just a cat'.
Some feel the trend is alarming and may cause harm to the veterinary and animal care industries.
Some feel it is moral and right.

Here's what the ruling in a nutshell says, and does not say.
What it says is that a person can sue and collect vet bills for an animal determined to be of low value ( free cat, or cheaply replaced at adoption) above and beyond the 'replacement' value of the pet.
Said amount must be documented in a clear way.
Like vet bills. Like billed additional expenses.
It does not allow suit for emotional damages, loss of companionship or pain and suffering.

Just recompense.

Justice.

I always think... what a person will do to an animal (shoot them) a person may then later to to another person.

I just think about Pumpkin....

and every other 'free' pet out there that we love with all our hearts, promise the cats gods to take care of , and don't need a random person committing an act of cruelty and harm without some form of protection, justice...and the grace of an avenging angel.

Boogar's Story

2011-04-16T19:04:00.000-07:00

Boogar’s Story

The world is soft.
It is wet warm and smells of Mother.
It is all one smooth color, black. Sometimes when the warmth moves the color is dark red and brown. If I move my head the dark colors turn back to black against the warmth of my brothers and sisters.
Milk is heaven in my mouth and belly. Mother’s voice and touch protect me, clean me and burrow me into soft.

The world is warm dark and smells of musk, milk, breath and grass.

The color of the world is getting lighter, sometimes when I push my head up the colors are almost pink. Mother sings a rumble lullaby, and with my mouth I try to sing it back to her. I sing tiny and high. My voice melts into the chorus of my brothers and sisters.

Bright! It is so bright! My eyes cracked and in came bright!

I am learning about the colors of the world. Mothers and brothers and sisters are dark. Home is dark. Beyond home is bright. Sometimes it is green and blue, sometimes it is dark. My ears reach for the sounds. Mother sings in her rumble lullaby, and calls in her worried voice, “Where are you? where are you?”
Brothers and sisters and i are always here, and we call back, “Here I am. Here I am.” in our tiny voices so sweet and high.

I am learning about standing. I stretch up up up and stand shaking to sniff the world. y brothers and sisters stand and climb and roll. We practice walking, rolling, falling and getting back up. It is fun to stand and fall, it is fun to step and roll. Mother watches us or helps us roll. Mother is warm and smells of brightness outside our hoe. Sometimes she brings home dust, and green smells. Sometimes she brings home the smell of something exciting. It is like a milk smell, but different, strange and attractive.

My mouth hatches teeth. I am very brave now.

I am brave to go outside. Under the bright and under the dark, my brothers and sisters and I take small steps, short hops and falls. We like falling and rolling. We do that best. The world has grown bigger, and there are many things to look at in it. Grass, flowers, cans, paper, rocks, trees, birds, boxes. So many things, so many names, so many shapes. The world is safe. Mother is happy. I am happy.

Mother is busy. Brother and I have found a magical hole. It goes from one world into another. We look through. I can smell something very strange. It is a frightening smell, of big monsters, scary places. It is only a smell though. It lies upon the grass, but comes from nothing I can see. It must be from the ghost.

The ghost lives in the other world. It smells funny and makes loud noises sometimes.
The hole becomes a window we look through. every day we peek through, but we can not climb into it yet. We fall and roll, we like that best. Running is very hard.

Today brother and I fell through the hole into the other world. First I was scared, but then I walked onto the grass. It is soft and green.

We play, we are playing. The smell of the ghost is all around, but we have never seen the ghost, and we do not see it now. We are playing.

Bad sounds. I hear the ghost. We jump up puffed and spitting, standing as big as we can be. The ghost is huge. It is light brown and it’s legs are like four tall trees up into the sky. It runs, we run, we fall.

The ghost grabs my brother. I hear my brother scream and cray, and I hear Mother coming. My brother stops. He is red wet, and his spirit states at me sadly before flying away.
Mother comes. I run, but the ghost grabs me. It hurts. I scream for Mother and the ghost shakes me. The pain stops, I fall to the ground.

Mother licks me. I can’t stand up. I see brothers spirit in the tree, waiting maybe. I hurt inside, but not outside. Mother licks me and I fall asleep.

Strange smells. I am lifted, I am in a box. Mother cries “Where are you? Where are you?” for me and my brother. Mother cried “Where are you taking him?”

I hurt. I sleep.

“Oh, what do you have in the box.” the tech said. “Oh my, a dog caught kitten? Let me have the doctor look at him, we’ll see what we can do.”

“Ladies, it’s a rescue case, shoot an x-ray if you want, but there’s no money in this one. If you want to work on him for the experience, go ahead.”

I sleep. I wake. I am alone. Sometimes hands come with food like my Mother had. I am afraid. I hurt. Sometimes I am warm and safe with no dreams, sometimes the world is fill of monsters. I can fall, sometimes I can roll, but I can’t run and jump and play anymore.

Time passes in light and dark. I have food, and warmth from New Mother. Sometimes she carries me. Sometimes I am on the world and I pull myself along. My back feet stick straight out in front of me now, not like how they used to. They are buzzy, not like my front feet. Sometimes the pads get very pink, and they smell like hurt but they never do.

New Mother isn’t like Mother. She never calls me “where are you, Where are you.” and she doesn’t answer when I cry “here I am , here I am”. New Mother stops bringing milk. She brings other things. wet and good smelling, crnchy and new. Sometimes she picks me up. Most of the time I live in a silver world, with lines that go up and down in front of my face.

“I’m sorry, but this kitten will never walk. He’ll never eliminate on his own. He has no feeling in his hind quarters, no movement. Any movement he makes is spinal reflex movement. He doesn’t feel it, and isn’t aware of it. There are millions of healthy kittens in the world looking for homes, and a kitten like this doesn’t stand a chance of adoption, or of any sort of normal life. I recommend you put him down.”

“Maybe your right, I can’t keep taking care of him like this. He’s cute, but he’s allot of work and I just don’t have the time for him. He sits in a cage all day, I barely have time to make him pee, much less pet him. No one is going to adopt a kitten like this, and he’s never going to get better...”

“No, he’s not.”

New Mother is sad. She makes wet eyes and won’t look at me. My back feet smell of dead things. Some of the pink is black and brown, mushy, but it never hurts. I try to lick the smell away, but it doesn’t go. Pieces of my toe pads come off in my mouth and I spit them out. I pull myself around, and my back feet stick out in front of me. They are good to lean against.
New Mother puts me into my little world, the one that goes through the air. She is sad, and she won’t look at me or talk to me. We are going in the mouth of the monster that purrs so loud, that takes us to the place with the silver world.

There are flowers and grass growing in front of the place where the silver world is. The smell of ghosts are everywhere, but they never come close to me.

New Mother is very sad. Her eyes rain into my little world.

I smell Mothers, many Mothers. In the air I think I smell my Mother, and many brothers and sisters, but I can not see them. I only see someone like New Mother. I will make my spirit shine bright because I smell Mother.

“So, how is he doing? I haven’t seen you for a few weeks. Is he getting any better?”

“No. The doctors I’ve asked to look at him say he’ll never recover. The movement we thought we were seeing is just reflex, he’s not thinking when he does it. I’m having him put to sleep today.”

“No way- why?”

“I don’t have the time to take care of him, and he’ll never walk, never be adoptable. I can’t keep him, it’s too much. I need to do it now before I get any ore attached then I already am.”

New Mother is very sad. I smell many Mothers, and I hear the Sky Mothers That Watch Over Us All, very big and far away speaking in a rumble throat echo. I can not understand them, but the smell of many Mothers does. The smell of many Mothers has wings no one else can see but me. They are white and dark all at once, shiny and shadow.

I hear the cat gods speak.
They thunder in my ears-
I speak.....

“Give him to me. I’ll give him a chance. He can come to work with me, our specialists can look at him. It’s up to you, but I’ll take him if that is what you’d rather do than put him to sleep.”

New Mother gives me to the smell of Mothers with Wings and we go to a new world. this world is very different. Many brothers and sisters live there, and it is big. there are no bars. Mother wings brings me many foods, and picks me up and carries me. The brothers and sisters come to play with me.

Time passes in bright and dark, in food and play, in sleep. Every morning I have to eat a small white food that tastes bad, and drink a little bad tasting drink. I don’t spit it out because Mother Wings is happy when I eat it. Sometimes I spit some of the little drink out. It is very bitter, sometimes it makes me drool. I get mad, but only for a little bit, because the taste goes away and i feel better inside.

My feet are different. One day mother Wings took me somewhere and took away all he smell and the black and brown off my feet. They smelled hurt, and had red on them, but they didn’t hurt. She wrapped them up in white. Every day the white came off and went back on. Then the whit came off and my feet were pink and smelled good again.

Mother Wings makes me stand. She holds me up and makes me stand. I can move my back feet now, and if I try very hard I can climb up on a big soft thing where my brothers and sisters sleep. I play and play. I can run with just my front feet, but Mother Wings makes me use my back feet sometimes.

I can feel something in my feet. It hurts. i bite them and it goes away. Sometimes I feel full inside and I climb into a box with sand in it and dig. i dig and dig and wait. i think hard about the fullness, but it doesn’t go away. Mother Wings comes and fixes it for me. Mother Wings fixes everything.

Sometimes my tail tickles. it moves and I chase it. I love to play with my brothers and sister. i try to itch my ears but my feet can’t reach. When i stand up. Mother Wings tells me i am good. Sometimes I can run like the brothers and sisters, but only for a little bit. the I fall and roll with my back feet, and have to run on my front feet. Mother wings tells me I am good. Mother Wings brings food.

“I’s amazing that he’s learning to walk. Give him 6 months, see how far he progresses. It’s unlikely, but it’s still possible his bladder function returns. I don’t think all of that movement is spinal reflex, he’s aware of what he is doing and choosing to do it. That can’t be reflex walking.”

Mother Wings uses her hands to make my back warm. The warm reaches inside and makes me sleep. i caught a bug today and it stung me, but Mother wings fixed it. Mother Wings picks me up and holds me all the time. I try to walk for her, i try to shine my spirit for her.
“Where are you Boogar.” she calls to me.
I answer, “Here I am, here I am” and she comes to find me.

(PS, the dude is 14 years old now!)

One Year Later....

2010-11-25T09:42:00.000-08:00

Today it is one year since Pumpkin died.

All over the world, Pumpkin and Boogar have friends, some who have joined Pumpkin on his next adventures, some who are still in this world.

In remembrance, we are lighting candles for those who have gone on. Let this day be a peaceful and joyful day of remembering the good days.

As Always, take the time to pass this blog on to those who may need it, post it on facebook, and share it.

We are grateful for the time that we have.....

Feet...paws, legs, joints and being paralyzed #1...Boogars feet

2010-09-05T10:04:00.000-07:00

Boogar has been running around using his front legs for 13 years. If you pick him up (and he doesn't bite you) & look him over you will notice several scars.
A few of them are amazingly stupid, the ones on his back where he leaned against a heater; little patches of white furn in the black...it great big one on his belly where he crawled on a heat disk, fell asleep (and of course I didn't know this) burned his belly and lost a big chunk of skin, making his boy cat nipples all out of alignment..that was a great and fun surgery...and his feet.

Examine Boogar's hind feet. Boogar is polydactile, which means he has extra toes, lots of them on all four feet. He was born with normal, extra toed feet. But his hind feet now are missing toes, scarred, curled under and look a little deformed. One must stay wrapped at all times.

Think about it. He has little or no functional feeling in his feet, so as he runs around the world, what happens? He can't place his feet properly so the tough pad on the bottom contacts the floor, he can't move his toes...so what happens? He's still using his feet and they are meant to be on the ground, right?

Not really. Look at your own feet. The tops are pretty soft, even if you spend all of your time barefoot and outdoors, the tops are just skin. The bottoms, the soles of your feet are tough, hardened, and thick..they are for walking on.
Imagine turning your feet upside down and walking on the tops of them, the skin. Imagine this not hurting, rather being mostly numb. What would happen to the skin on the top of your feet?
It would wear, shred, get road rash, form ulcers and generally not work really well for walking.

This happens to the rear feet of paralyzed cats.

One of the side effects of rear limb paralysis is 'knuckling', the rear feet turn under and do not place correctly on the ground. Toe tops and foot tops contact the ground. The hair might protect them for awhile, and maybe the cats ability to shift foot position might spread the damage over enough of an area so ulcers don't occur...but maybe not.

As a kitten, before I took him, Boogar had worn off his toes on his back feet. Several of them were black rotting stumps with bone sticking out the ends. OK, so his caretaker didn't know, and he didn't feel it. But he had 'walked' them off, trying to learn to get around as a 4 week old broken kitten. So, off they came and his feet healed.

But as he grew, even though he had learned to walk, sort of like how a frog hops around, he wa sunable to learn to place his feet properly enough to keep them safe.

At first he just bruised the tops of them. Next he wore the hair off. One day, he tore one open.

So, I bandaged them. OK, wrapping and bandaging a cat foot is an exercise in inventiveness. They don't like it. It thumps, drags, annoys them, chases them, entertains them with a chew toy and so on. Boogar required one foot to always be bandages, and his other foot to be bandaged intermittently.

We tried traditional tape and gause bandages...and he got tape sores. We tried baby socks, and he either got them we or yanked them off. We tried layers of tape on the top of his foot to simulate a paw pad..and this worked a while, but...
One day he got a grain of sand under his tape paw pad. Now I changed them once a week, because this preserved the hair and skin. But a few days into his newest tape creation, top of foot only paw pad, his foot swelled up. It couldn't be constricted, because the tape was only a layered up skid pad on the top of his foot.

I pulled it off and found a green, deep ulcer the size of the tip of my finger, going to his bone. Infected, rotting tissue. OK, barf, it stank and I cleaned it out and went to several weeks of sugar/ honey wraps. Sugar or honey accelerate tissue healing. I'll talk more about the how to in another blog.

His foot sort of healed, and sort of didn't. It would close and scar, and then re-open even though it was always fully wrapped and padded now.

What happened is that he had a staph infection brewing. More on Staph and MRSA infections another time.

So, after years of debriding, cleaning, patching, bandaging, tape burns, fur loss and shaking my head I found something that works.

3M makes a skin tape called medipore tape (link goes straight to 3m product description) which sticks to itself, sticks to skin and hair, is thin, light, flexible, it breaths and it tears off in perforated strips the right size to wrap a cat paw in.

Now Boogar wears one paw wrapped. It anywhere from a week to a month, and it comes on and off easy. His foot is healed underneath and has been so for a year. The tape is not so bulky that it catches on stuff, risking him pulling and dislocating his hip or ankle (more on joints in another blog) but solid enough to protect his foot.

Most cats than can not walk normally will get to a place where one or both rear feet get damaged. This is a possible solution to prevent it.

Here's what foot damage can look like.... and this is mild.

Networking...something we all need & Biscuits Story

2010-09-05T09:25:00.000-07:00

Alright, I know it gets lonely squeezing bladders, calling the vet, waiting for an email. One of the reasons so many spinal cord injured cats DO NOT make it is the lack of support and data available quickly for their owners.

Hope is the hardest thing to maintain when you are standing in the vets office, looking at X-rays or standing in front of a cage with your beloved one semi-conscious in it.

So, I am asking everyone to pitch in links...to each other. Face-book has an application called 'cat book', and although I am not a great fan of face-book *except for really lame games I stress play* I can see a couple good things about it. Everyone can use it and it can be made as personal or as distant as you want.

So, if you are using face-book connect up to me and I'll try to build an interactive link exchange/ owner chat. On this blog and my website, I can not create a forum for chatting...yet.

So, here is a cool story about Biscuit. Great web page, lots of cool things...and hope for all.

Biscuit's Story

Once upon a time there were kittens....

2010-08-27T18:36:00.000-07:00

So, the ongoing story of Ghost who was born tame, and the rest of the kittens.

Mama was spayed, fully vaccinated for felv, distemper and rabies and released. Mama was unable to live indoors without fear.
She comes around at night to be fed, and watched from 20 feet away. She is wild.

Ghost is crazy. She's tame but plays the 'don't touch me I'm busy playing' run away game. I suspect she will grow up brat like lol.
Jake is sweet and loves Boogar. Boogar will be keeping him.... Boogar needs a buddy after loosing Pumpkin last year.

Na'vi & Fire have been adopted and renamed into Na'vi and Neytiri. They are doing good.

Vlad has several names...Rowan...Spore....Prion..... I kinda like Spore. He is not very tame. He has a potential home, but at this time is still with Boogar.

Check out this link. Its about a man who build a dream. Caboodle Ranch. He has created a safe home for abandoned cats. He lives simply and shares his world with the four foot...
http://www.caboodleranch.com/Index.html
I so get that.

So, I am a little slow on getting informational posts up. I need to know what sort of posts will be help full. I am also thinking of setting up a face book page for Boogar so that owners of special needs cats can 'chat' with each other, as well as with me. Skype is another possibility for one on one web cam work.

Love to all...you all know how to reach us.

Boogar in a pile with Ghost and Jake....

Ghost comes home......

2010-07-11T19:38:00.000-07:00

Random News Flash!!!

I have a litter of kittens.

OK, so this isn’t a BAD thing, but it does make life a little more hectic. Why? I mean, I don’t need critters, the beaten, the broken and the damned come here regularly and stay to heal or live out the remainder of their days. My kitchen looks like E.R. I have four large locked medical cabinets wall mounted full of supplies and if the world ends I plan on packing them up and becoming a field surgeon.

But….

About two months ago I noticed two new cats in the neighborhood. They were about 6 months old, and in really good shape. Clean, well fed. They looked like littermates. I guessed a male and female from their build. Both were white with black markings, the male an angora looking long hair, the female a sleek and well fed short hair.

They stayed a few days and then vanished.

Then I saw the female again about a month later. I thought…”I bet she is pregnant’ and ‘I bet someone dumped those two cats.’

But Mama kitty was already afraid.

I was feeding Abby, because Abby has another clutch of babies and her two males are helping feed them and I noticed that the food was vanishing much faster than the three crows could take it, especially when I knew they were not around.

One morning I saw mama kitty taking the crows food and running with it. Cheese, chicken, bread…it did not matter. She looked thinner.

So I made a feeding station and fed her. I also fed the rest of the dumped cats in the neighborhood, the crows, the birds and random possums.

Mama didn’t let me get close to her, so I could not tell if she had been pregnant and had babies, or had simply lived really rough and was skinny.

Then one morning I was outside drinking coffee and watching the bugs and butterflies and I saw a flash of white under my car…a very little white thing.

I thought “Damn it, it’s a rat! Great, I have rats coming right up to my house.”

But it wasn’t.

It was a kitten. It was ‘Ghost’, my rarest flower who I lost, and who always comes back.

Watching, four more kittens and mama came through a hole in the fence from the abandoned trashed and derelict halfway house next door (great neighbors, dual diagnosis men with no supervision, some of whom still try to camp there until the police route them out,) and mama and the kittens played in my driveway.

I put out food and watched them eat. The kittens were skin and bones, and so was mama. They ate several cans of cat food, a whole chicken from the ‘fridge and about a pound of dry kibble. And water, they were so thirsty.

They stayed a while then vanished. They did not come back.

So I embarked on a sacred quest to find them, as one was Ghost and I was not going to let her grow up starved, flea ridden, feral and unfixed. Of course, I told the cat gods if I took one I would take them all in and care for them, and get them homes.

I searched high and low. Finally, one night I got my business card out and went house to house.

I found them, living in a backyard. The kind family let me bring my trap and we started the long process of trapping all the kittens and mama cat.

The male cat is still at large, I have seen him once. He is emaciated, covered in dirt, burs and car oil. He was standing at my door looking for his sister, for food, for something, but he ran from me. I still put out food in hopes he learns to come close and I can trap and neuter him.

Here is their story…..

Our mother and father were once loved. We know that because mama had us near people, under a shed in a back yard. But people are cruel too, because mother and father were happy until they were put into a box and driven far away. They were dumped out on a street and left staring after the car. They ran.

Mother ran her nails off. She was chased, hit, kicked, cornered by dogs and she had to find food out of garbage cans. But she had us in a quiet place.

We grew, slowly. There was not enough food so there was not enough milk, so we were small. But mama loved us and kept us safe.

One of us was different. One of us was not wild and knew something.

I am Ghost, the kitten who knew. I found the way to the witches house and waited to be seen. I knew the way home.

I am Wu, the short haired boy. I know how to be sweet and sleep in your arms now. I am all black.

I am Vlad, the almost twin of Ghost, but I am a boy and have long hair like my father. I am white with black spots. Pumpkin’s dad named me. Maybe I will go live with him.

I am Na’vi, the girl who is quiet. I have long hair and am black.

I am Fire, the girl who looks like Boogar and hisses still. I am learning to lay in peoples arms.

I am Mama. I sit and wait for food huddled in the corner of a cage. I tore my nails off trying to get indoors to my kittens, then tore my nails until they ran with blood trying to escape out the windows. I am confused. I am spayed now. I am vaccinated. I wait confused for food and water, and it is fresh and clean. But I do not trust anyone, and I may never trust them again.

I will be let go, when my vaccinations are finished. I will have a backyard with chickens, a pond, mice and a garage full of hiding places. I will be safe if I want to stay, but I am confused.

I was somebody’s pet. They threw me away and I may never heal.

Sad, isn’t it?

So, these kittens ARE up for adoption. In order to adopt one you must be able to come pick it up, provide it a forever indoor home, agree to keep up on medica care, handle them allot…and no declawing.

Boogar is being ‘uncle’ to them right now. Each kitten spends time with Boogar, learning that he is OK with people. He grooms them, squishes them flat, eats with them and watches them.

Mama? I wish she had a home to go to. I wish she could trust again.

But she was thrown away.

The other feline by-product...

2010-06-27T17:48:00.000-07:00

Poop

Did I get your attention? 

We all wait with dread and hope with spinal cord injured cats for their bladders to come back online, because if you don’t pee… you die. It’s pretty simple. A bladder than can not empty will kill you in 24 to 48 hours & it’s a miserable way to go. 

So, we learn to check bladders and squeeze them to pee our cats in hopes that we can do this long enough for enough recovery to occur so that our cats can be OK enough. Just OK enough.

One thing we overlook at first is this.  Can the cat pass stool? Poop.

When the nerves to the hindquarters are inured, not only do the signals get messed up to the bladder and back legs, they also get messed up going to the colon. 

What this means? 

Constipation.

Super cool, isn’t it. It’s bad enough to have to figure out how to make a cat pee by hand, and now you are asking me to make it poop?

Well, sorta.

As Boogar ages his colon is working less and less. Other spinal cord injured cats also have problems with this. So lets talk about what it is and what to do.

Here how it works. It works allot like the bladder.

The nerves tell the colon it is full and they tell it to squeeze in an organized manner. This makes you ‘need to go’. The muscles push in a pattern and push out the ‘log’, ‘gift’, ‘cat byproduct’, ‘stool or whatever you wish to call it (send me what you call it & make me laugh & I’ll post it), leaving room for more coming on down the pipes.

If your nerves are not working, then everything gets backed up.

When it backs up, it dries out and gets bigger and bigger. It dries because it is your body’s job to suck the extra water out. It gets bigger because it’s still coming down the pipes but it’s not escaping…like a big brown bad smelling traffic jamb.

What needs to happen is a few different things. It needs to stay soft enough for the body to push, and sometimes the body needs help clearing things out.

This means stool softeners, and enemas.

Now there are some easy stool softeners out there. The best and easiest? Canned pumpkin.  

So, how do you get a cat to eat canned pumpkin? Mix a spoonful into the yummiest canned cat food you can find, about 1/3rd pumpkin to 2/3rd cat food and many cats will eat this. Try for a heaping spoonful a day. 

Pack the extra pumpkin into an ice cube making tray and freeze it, store it in freezer bags and defrost one at a time.

The other stool softeners are prescription in the USA, Lactulose is one. It’s a nasty, super sweet syrupy stuff that sucks water into your colon to keep everything soft and wet. Most cats will take it. Don’t use it as an emergency coffee or tea sweetener…

You may learn to help your cat pass stool, when you feel for a bladder and realize there is a great big log in your way. It’s sort of a firm but gentle massage and milk it out movement. (I so need to make YouTube videos or hook up a webcam). 

When all else fails, you may need to learn to do an occasional enema.

CAUTION

Do not give an over the counter enema. Cats can not tolerate some of the substances people can. 

Warm water and KY is generally thought of as safe.

Talk to your vet about what kind is OK. You will need to be shown the first time how to give a cat enema. Once again, Don’t try this at home without live one on one direction. 

But enemas used carefully can help.

this is pea pod. his eyes look like they do 
because of damage from high blood pressure. 
The iris has holes where his lense flashes
red through in photos. 

Letters from the vault.For a kitten. We are grateful for the time that we have....

2010-05-04T09:32:00.000-07:00

This was written more than a year ago, when Pumpkin was still alive. To someone who was loosing a kitten she's worked very hard on. I thought what it said applied to others, and perhaps would give comfort to all.

I have been thinking about how to explain XXX, to the best of my ability. It’s hard, because I never saw her, examined her, or brought her into my hospital for anything, and there is no way for that to happen.

I do have 30 years of veterinary medicine though, and here’s what my observations tell me.

Sometimes kittens and puppies are born with terrible defects. Most of the time mothers abandon them and they do not survive. Sometimes we intervene and try to raise them. Some of them are a simple as the cat version of RH factor- kittens who’s blood type was different than moms enough so that they have antibodies to their own blood, and fail to ‘thrive’, lasting a few days or weeks- to complex and global internal and external problems

Many animal babies born with visible deformities and visible defects in function have other defects inside that we can not see. Sometimes the body of that baby can only support it’s own life while it is at a particular size, or developmental stage. As it’s body grows, the demands placed on damaged, deformed or otherwise defective organs increases, and eventually the demands of the growing and maturing body become too much for the entire system to handle. At that time, the hidden defects become active, and a chain of events may occur that ultimately ends this babies life, or cause a situation that will eventually shorten life.

We often see this with the defect ‘liver shunt’, and with defects to the brain and spinal column, as well as the heart. Manx kittens who are born completely tailless often wind up not ‘thriving’, and ultimately either living a short and uncomfortable life, or dying very young. Some manx kittens can have a defect in their spine which causes major problems, and this defect is mirrored internally.

I have seen also kittens with horrible deformities and birth defects do OK. The kitten born with a deformed heart given 2 months to live is 2 years old now, survived her spay just fine and is an active happy girl. The kitten born with one leg missing and one eye too small is fine as well. He has a heart murmur so we monitor that, but right now he doesn’t care.

Sometimes we win with these little ones, sometimes we loose. Either way, it is only about their comfort, and giving them as many good days as they have. Our intervention always gives them extra good days that nature did not plan for them.

It is a terrible thing to put your heart and soul into a kitten who dies, or to know that the end of good days is coming. I’ve done it, and I know me, I’ll do it again. You question every action from day one. Your heart breaks, and you feel everything from the deepest sorrow, to anger, guilt, anxiety and confusion. Most people around you don’t ‘get it’ enough to understand it is just like loosing a person, so the grief support is not there. Work will not offer you time off, few will think of sending you flowers, or coming to cook dinner for you.

Over and over you ask yourself, “What did I do wrong?”

The question really is, “What did I do right?”
Because in the real world of medicine, you gave a life extra days, extra good days nature did not have for it. Many extra days.

So what did you do right?

I have understood deeply that sometimes I will love a cat that has only a short time on this earth. I have one now who I question, the little cat “Maggot”. (His name is a long story, suffice to say it fits him, and he’s very cute)

Maggot was born with kidney stones. He should have died at 5 weeks old, however he landed in my hands so at 5 to 6 weeks he was getting ultrasounds, had an IV cath in place, and was getting IV fluids for two weeks ( at my house, it’s great to take gear home) and tons of drugs, several of which had never been used on a cat.

Maggot is 1 year old now, tiny, cute and a nut…but I never forget, he was not meant to be alive.

I am grateful for the time I have been given. I will remember to be grateful that I have any time at all with him. We are grateful for the time that we have.

Boogar is not meant to be alive. He should have died at 4 weeks old, dog caught. He should have died again last Christmas, of MRSA. He’s been 11, almost 12 (12 on April fools day, go figure) years of consultations, messages on VIN, interviews, research, discussions with veterinary and human neurologist, experimental drugs and drug protocols well beyond the scope of most of California’s veterinary medicine. We are progressive and proactive out here… and Boogar has pushed the envelope.

I am grateful for the time that I have had….
From everything you have told me, I do not think anything you did caused or hastened XXX’s decline or caused such a body wide problem. Medicine is not a science with hard and fast rules, besides the very simple ones like ‘you need to be able to breath’ and ‘yes, you must have a heart’. Medicine is an art form, like composing a symphony in 40 parts. (I am also a composer & artist, so I think in these metaphors) Each instrument must work in relationship to the other, but how you use them is flexible and changeable- an art form.

No matter what the outcome, you did not ‘do’ this. You are a helper, a nurse, a kind heart…not a cause of a defect. We do not have the power to heal so absolute, nor do the small things we do that we question have the power to cause something as dramatic as XXX’s quick decline. Only the body itself has that ability, to heal or fail as it sees fit, or is programmed to do.

Thinking outside the box is what good vets do, and what good pet owners do. Disabled pets need creative approaches to medicine, everything from simple changes in environment for comfort, to the complexities of anesthetizing and doing surgery on some of these animals.

Not all vets can provide this. This does not mean they are bad vets, it means this sort of medicine is cutting edge stuff, and some is considered experimental. Some is simply not taught, and sometimes you do not have the staff and equipment for some of the things that are needed.

Boogar for example, must never be anesthetized without someone who understands the effect of spinal cord injury to his ability to breath. He can not breath by himself under anesthetic, which most pets can. Someone (usually me) has to breath for him for the entire procedure, until he is completely awake. This is outside the scope of many veterinary practices, as it is not commonly done to breath completely for an animal under anesthetic. He can not have the common anesthetic drugs. He must never be put under without an IV in place and a breathing tube, ever.

Pumpkin who is also paralyzed, is entirely different. He can be treated as a regular healthy cat with anesthetics. However, he’s diabetic. He may not heal correctly.

These are not all the cats who have disabilities or severe medical challenges that I have.

Fizz survived feline distemper as a kitten, plus severe abuse. He was taken away from a ‘foster’ and brought to me weighing less than a 3 week old kitten at 8 weeks old. He was covered with urine and fecal burns, and he was light brown, which is what a black coat turns from lack of protein. His hindquarters are covered with scars.

Every night I got up every 2 hours to medicate him, handling him with gloves, a mask and gown. He lived in an isolation kennel, because he had distemper. I was so tired after 2 weeks that I got up praying he'd passed, just to end the misery for both of us. I made mistakes with his meds because I was so tired. Distemper is almost always fatal. Fizz is 13 years old now.

Sage and Jahrod were found abandoned on a hot sidewalk, almost dead at 10 days old. In a box. Someone dumped them. Sage had seizures every morning faithfully at 4 AM.

Pea Pod was taken away from a foster who fed him by bottle until he was 4 weeks old, them threw him in a garage with a bowl of water and a bowl of dog kibble. He weighed less than a pound at 4 months old, was blind with protein & starvation cataracts, had lost most of his hair, and his bones were bent from starvation. He is now 13 years old.

Sarabi was taken from the same situation. Her digestive tract was destroyed. We medicated and fought for her for 8 years. She is dead. We lost.

I am grateful for the time that she had. Most of it was very good.

I have a zoo. The crow who had a broken wing, the cats who were thrown away. The big dumb happy dog who is my bark alarm. My house is peaceful, and full of fur.

My kitchen looks like a hospital, with locked metal boxes mounted on the walls filled with veterinary drugs and supplies. I’ve done emergency surgery on my floor. My life is odd, different…because I choose to care for these lives, and choose to extend that care to others.

I will never be ‘rich’. I may never retire. I may never travel. But I will honor my path.

I do not know if XXX will live. I my gut says ‘no’, she has lived well and is at the end of her days. I hope I am wrong. What I do know is that you have given her many extra days that nature did not set aside for her.

You gave her life, love, comfort and the best of all possible lives, no matter what the outcome.

I suspect you are grieving, or alternating between frantic hope and depression. Just stay with her and hang in there.

Let me know if you need anything.

Rev. Kadeth

Ghost, my rarest flower, who I lost.

Kadeth & Boogar

Gemma's Story

2010-05-02T08:28:00.000-07:00

In promising to get your stories and photos of our brother and sister cats up, I have fallen behind...yet more so I realize they only people who can write these stories are you, so write them for your beloved cat friends, and be patient, i will post them. If you've written them before, and I've not put them up, write them again and pester me!

Each of you have brought something to me. Never think this is a 'one way street'.

As I connect and coach people all over the world I keep coming to understand how interconnected we all are, regardless of location, lifestyle, belief, economy or any other random fact.

So without further chatting on my part, here is Gemma's story, from South Africa, written by her person, Karin

The Story of Karin, Gemma and the Sleeping Legs

Once upon a time, very, very long ago, a soul was put into this world in the shape of a human. The soul could never quite get used to living among the humans and was always searching. It didn’t know what, but something was missing.

In the meantime it did normal human things, got married, had a husband and babies that it loved dearly and lived its life pretending to be what was given to it.

One day, the soul’s human husband brought home a teeny weenie little baby soul that had just made its way to their world. It was given the body of a kitty.

And so, Karin and Gemma met.

They had a wonderful life together, shared with all the other cat souls living with the humans. But it was not meant to last.

One day Gemma went chasing after cockroaches living in the storm drain outside their house. She always brought them in for the family. But a mean dragon caught her by the tail, flung her into a dungeon and told her not to make a sound. It was Christmas time and Gemma could hear the comings and goings, but did not dare to look. The dragon was still lurking outside. Until, at last, Karin found her. But she was broken. Her back legs were sleeping. But Karin had found her purpose in life and took care of her the best she knew how.

With the help of a kind, gentle and wise wizard living far, far away, days grew into months and life became easier with the Sleeping Legs.

And then, one dark autumn day, the dragon’s spell caught up with Gemma. Karin thought that they had banished it, but the dragon was clever and waited, just out of sight, for the right moment, . And on that fateful day, just as the two were lulled into a false sense of being okay at last, it came and tore Gemma away.

Karin stayed behind, devastated. Her quest had ended abruptly. Cruelly, and without warning. She cried and cried, and when she could cry no more, she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of days when the son shone brightly. And all the while she was aware of the comforting wizard’s presence.

She knew that to enable Gemma to escape the dragon’s claws completely, she would have to let go of her own sorrow. So, that morning, she began the preparations for the ceremony. Dressed in pure white, she went to their favourite, secret place – a spiral garden in the woods. This place had magical powers and they had spent many happy hours there, shielded from the realities of life. Nine stepping stones for each of Gemma’s nine lives. A broken candle at the entrance for Gemi’s broken body. Nine sticks of incense and nine sprigs of myrtle. In the middle, Karin placed Gemma’s favourite cloak and lit a whole candle. She knew instinctively that Gemma would be whole again where she was going. And with that, she said goodbye to her, and gave her permission to go ahead without her, and promised never to forget her.

At last, the dragon’s spell was broken and he could get to Gemma no more. She was whole again.

Karin and Kadeth, the wizard, remained friends, their love of cat souls binding them together.

Go in peace, my dearest Gemma.

Go in peace ...

This is not how it was supposed to be

I had it all planned, a clear picture
- yesterday still

We would win this
The day would come in maybe two years, at the longest.
Like Pumpkin
She would walk again

I even knew what it would feel like when she took her first step
Was it only last week that I felt a fraction of it?
When we made her first pee?
Pure, clean joy.
Gemma is gone.
I would give anything just to hold her little body again
even if only for one last time.
But the end came today and there is nothing left

I can't remember what I did before this,
three and a half months, an eternity.
I don't want to anymore

There is nothing left inside me
Where are you?
I am lost

Thank you my friend Karin, for writing this. Love to you and Gemma on this journey. Gemma, say hello to Pumpkin, and all his spirit brothers and sisters when you meet them.
Kadeth & Boogar

I am stunned and heartbroken

2010-04-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

One of ours has passed.

Please stop and offer wishes of peace and comfort to Karin, Gemma's person. I do not know what happened, but I do know that Gemma is not with us anymore.

Light a candle for Gemma please....

Kadeth & Boogar

Boogar's 13! 13 years of...cat pee.

2010-04-06T19:25:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday Boogar!!!

Boogar turned 13 years old on April 1st, 2010.

OK, I thought to myself, that’s allot of cat pee. I mean, I empty his bladder 3 to 5 times a day EVERY DAY. I’ve been doing it his whole life….
Being a tweak sometimes, I had to figure out how much pee that is.

Lets do some math.

A year has 365 days.

I pee him on average 4 times a day.

Each pee is about 30 or more cc’s. Thats a conservative estimate.

So, that means 365 x 4 times a day is 1460 pee’s per year.

Each pee is about 30 cc’s

So 1460 pees x 30 cc’s is 43800 ccs of pee per year

That is roughly 44 liters of pee a year….

44 x 13 is 572…so I’ve squeezed about 600 liters of pee out of Boogar over the last 13 years…

Hmmm, seems like is should be more. I swear, he makes enough to water a small yard.
If that isn’t silly enough….

600 liters equals 158.5 gallons of cat pee.

That’s a small hot tub….

Happy Birthday Boogar

Feel free to check and correct my math.

Letting Go. When one of our own must be sent on...

2010-03-02T16:47:00.000-08:00

Letting Go
When comes the day when our feet guide us down weary paths dark and hard, that no more can our foot tread, the path must change. On this path we find at it’s end a bright glade. All of us meet there, and we greet each other with heart and hope. Our families are there, two foot and four foot…and we go on into world unknown.

On this path we meet.

One of the most terrible decisions a pet care taker has to make it to let an animal go that feels healthy and feels good, but has a medical problem that can not be fixed, or a problem they can not provide care for.

Each person who attempt to care for a cat with severe spinal cord injuries is going to face these moments. There will be times when your cat is happy, purring, playing…and in your heart of hearts you know that this story will not turn out well. It may be that your cat can not be emptied by hand. It may be that your cat can not pass stool. It may be that your cat has injured its paralyzed hindquarters and repair is not on option.

Or hardest on the heart…money has run out, medical expenses are looming over your head, your cat needs a huge procedure and you can’t, you just can’t.

I have faced that. It is terrible. Sorrow, loss, guilt, anger, depression…all the emotions of loss become your bedfellows, and the hope you may have had seems like a candy coated lie.

On this path we meet…. And those of us who touch here, who converse, each of us can become support and care for the other.

That too is part of my ‘job’. To offer understanding, solace and support when it is time to let go.

It is always OK to write. Always.

Kadeth & Boogar's Email

Dear Ellen DeGeneres

2010-02-21T09:06:00.000-08:00

Dear Ellen
I have a story to tell of love, compassion, courage and heart. This story begins with one and extends now to increasing hearts, spirits and lives.

Bear with me please, while I craft the journey. In order to see and feel the story, I must start at the beginning.

I am a veterinary nurse, and have been so for 30 years. I have worked with the finest veterinary neurosurgeon on the west coast, the best emergency vets and fine feline and exotic doctors.
March back in time 12 years. I had crossed paths with a kitten, tiny, feral and injured. Caught by a dog at 4 weeks old, the rest of his litter killed. He was brought to a veterinary hospital by a good Samaritan, and one of the technicians their had been caring for him. He was paralyzed from the bottom of his ribcage down. In the real world for a cat this means he could not walk, and more importantly had no ability to empty his own bladder. The lifespan of these cats with this sort of injury traditionally is 2 months.
I had dropped by this clinic to give a friend a ride and the technician who was caring for this kitten was sitting on the doorstep sobbing her heart out. I asked her why and she said she was putting her kitten to sleep after her shift, because he would never recover.
The world stopped. The sounds of the cars and her voice fell away. Birdsong grew louder and the sky grew brighter. I heard a sound, like thunder in the mountains, but I understood this sound to be a voice. This voice (within myself or some cat guardian spirit I can not say) said “Kadeth, take him. He will bring you great gifts.”
I offered to take the kitten if she so chose and she said to come back at the end of her shirt, she’d think about it. Many veterinary technicians are very honorable and ethical people, and passing on a doomed kitten to another is in a way ‘not right’.

I returned, and she was gone. But the kitten was sitting in his cage with a note saying ‘thank you thank you thank you!” Beside the cage the syringe with the euthanasia solution was drawn up, she had decided at the last minute to give him up.

Once again, traditionally these cats live about 2 months, dyeing of complications such as ascending bladder infections, limb damage from dragging and so on, or so I was told over and over.
I thought, people who are paralyzed do not die in 2 months why must a cat?

So began my journey with ‘Boogar’.

On April 1st he turns 13. I have for 13 years emptied (expressed) his bladder by hand 3 or more times a day, wrapped his feet, loved him and taken him everywhere.

Boogar is on the internet.

4 years ago I met ‘Pumpkin’, who was shot off his fence by a cruel person with a pellet gun. The commitment of his owner was such that he hunted for anything that could help his cat, as the surgeons who removed the pellet from his spine said he would never recover.

]Pumpkin’s dad heard of me through the veterinary surgeons and searched until he found me. He has become my best friend, my adopted big brother…

2 years ago I built a website, and put a page on care of spinal cord injured cats up.

Slowly letters came in begging for help. My cat was hit by a car, my vet says put him to sleep but I do not want to, what can I do? My vet says you can not express a cats bladder long term, but you have done it for more than 10 years, can you tell me how? Please help. Over and over. Canada. West Africa. India. Texas, Minnesota, Oregon, Ohio. Over and over, please help us.

So I did. I do. I write long emails to people. I coach them one on one over the internet on every aspect of cat care that I can that applies to their situation. I promise to be there for them, and I am. Please be assured this is a ‘free’ service, when people have a newly paralyzed cat they have vet bills that break them. I can not ad to that.

And I have a dream.

I dream of having a rescue/ learning center for spinal cord injured cats and their owners. These are pets with extraordinary medical needs and the people who choose to care for them are extraordinary owners. Lives are restructured to care for these pets.

I dream of a center, where these cats can come to for care, with their owners. Where owners can be taught hands on to care for them, where a vet can asses them who has a positive outlook, who can give heart and hope. Where referrals can be made to local specialists that will provide positive assistance rather than the chant ‘these cats don’t recover, euthanize’ that so many vets with their innocent lack of experience with these cases say in good faith.

I have the vet. I work with her. She is my associate and friend and has worked with Boogar and Pumpkin, the 2 paralyzed cats who began this journey for years. She is willing to work with others. I have the specialists locally to refer to, the surgeons who know of me, who worked on Pumpkin and Boogar. I have the skill, I have the heart. I even have a small handful of dedicated animal lovers who would come to staff such a place.

And I have people who need it. ‘Stick’, paralyzed 1 month ago, his two 19 year old owners have taken out loans, taken on extra work and have both learned to express his bladder, but they may need more help than I can give online.

This is where I come to you. I do not know what to ask for, I do not know the path of your heart. I ask you though to look at the links, read the blog, and think.

I can build this place. I need a patron. I have everything else.

Boogar turns 13 years old this April. He is paralyzed from T-8 down. All around the country he has brothers and sister, all around the world he has brothers and sisters. These people are my family of heart in their commitment to their pets.

Please consider my story, and consider talking to me and choosing to participate.

Kadeth Pozzesi, RVT.

http://ellen.warnerbros.com/

Please, those of you who come to this site, write Ellen at the link above. Send her your stories, your photos, let her know you need a patron saint, patron goddess a good person to help fund a research and rescue place for our pets. I have the people. I have the heart, and I have all of you who need it. Write her!

Love to all of you

Kadeth

Trudy, who had an abcess.....

2010-02-07T22:22:00.000-08:00

There are many things that can paralyze a cat. Most people think of cars, guns, dogs, accidents and so on, but what many do not realize is that a bad tail base abcess can do the same thing.

What happens is that the infection invades the nerves that branch off of the spine and send signals to the bladder, bowel, rear legs and tail. This shuts down the nerve signals.

Typicaly this does NOT invade and enter the spinal cord itself, neither does it ascend up the spine. It hits the nerve roots.

This sort of abcess requires immediate and agressive treatment. In an ideal world, the abcess is opened under anesthetic, drained, debrided of infected and dead flesh, and closed bask up as much as the injured skin permits, with drains in place to allow infected matter to still come out. Cats are put on antibiotics, and the wound is flushed and hot packed several times a day. The would also may be cultured to identify the infecting organisims.

Well, not every cat gets agressive treatment. Not every vet will look at a cat, see the infection and resulting paralysis and think 'I can fix this for this cat and these people'. This is what happened to Trudy. Paralyzed from an infection, her vet suggested minimal treatment to see 'how she did'.

OK, these cats do not do OK with minimal treatment. An infection that affects feeling and mobility is a huge infection. Trudys mom persisted and insisted on more agressive treatment.

Slowly Trudy healed. She relearned how to stand and walk, and her mom learned how to empty her bladder and take care of her colon. When I last checked in, Trudy was beginning to use her litter box some...

Beautiful Trudy...

So, can my cat feel his bladder or not? At least right now....

2010-02-07T11:04:00.000-08:00

Can my cat feel his bladder?
The difference between reflex and overflow urination vs ‘I can feel & I need to pee’ and what that all means.

The bladder has several systems in place to insure that it empties. The one we all know about is the pressure sensors on the inside of the bladder that signal ‘gotta pee!’, and that signal goes from the bladder to the spine, up to the brain and tells you to start looking for a bathroom, or if you are a cat, a litter box or other convenient cat pee place.

When this is working right, we all have an idea of how much is in our bladder and sorta when we need to be thinking about it. It’s a conscious thing, we KNOW when we need to pee and how long we can or can not ‘hold it’.

This system includes a send back from the brain that says “Gotta Pee!” and when there is a place to do so, it also sends a ‘contract & empty signal.

When the spine is damaged or severed, the signals from the bladder don’t go where they are supposed to go. The signals from the brain do not get to where they are supposed to go either.
This means the bladder sits, and fills, and does not notice. Neither does the brain notice the feeling of fullness. There is NO signal ‘gotta pee’, neither is their a signal that says ‘time to pee so squeeze’.

The spine however is not just a tube that signals go through. It has layers. It is like the most complex highway, with stop and go lights, intersections, detours at times and lots of cars…. Only layer upon layer of these highways all bundled into a cord.

When a cat has a lower spinal cord injury, what ‘kills’ them if they survive the initial injury is the inability to urinate combined with the difficulty of training an adult cat to allow it’s bladder to be emptied by a person.

Vets in general do not expect clients to be willing to take on the task of learning to express a bladder, so at this point most vets will say ‘euthanize’.

You don’t have to.

Now, what is important is learning to tell the difference between a bladder that a cat can not feel at all, and one that it can, but can not get to work…yet.

Guidelines

1) Cats who do NOT feel their bladder do not dig in a litter box. Exception, some cats think a clean liter box is a great toy and will dig and roll in it. Boogar does that. But it’s different, it’s play. You can tell by watching him, he’s goofing off.

2) Cats that dig a hole and squat CAN FEEL their bladder, but they may not be able to squeeze enough to get the urine to come out. This is because of several things.

a. The bladder has several sets of muscles, and push out set and a keep in set. Sometimes the keep it in set is stronger than the push it out set.

b. The nerve signals may be going from the bladder to the brain with the ‘gotta pee’ signal, but the signal from the brain to the ‘pee now’ system is not coming though enough.

c. Both systems are starting to work but are weak.

d. Both systems are working, but the muscles are weak, or there is residual pain from injury interfering.

3) NONE of this is overflow urination. Overflow urination is when the ‘gotta pee’ and ‘pee now’ signals are absent, the bladder fills up to overfull, and drips. In some cats this drip will be in combination with a stuck on ‘squeeze now’ signal and their bladder will be small, in some cats this will be with no signals, and they will have a huge, flaccid bladder. Neither of these cats will dig in a litter box and squat to pee, although a few might attempt to pass poop in this way (not typical).

4) Reflex urination is entirely different. It is when there are no ‘gotta pee’ signals going to the brain, no ‘pee now’ signals coming back from the brain but the internal pressure signals from the bladder are working partly. They send the ‘gotta pee’ signal when the bladder is hugely full (this is a failsafe & why you will pee eventually if you are unconscious, but will not leak) to the spine and the spine sends back a ‘pee now’ signal. This is a failsafe reflex. With this signal the cat will pee, but not in a box. It may pee in it’s sleep, on the floor, anywhere and anytime, or just on itself, when the bladder gets so full it sends this signal.

Basic understanding of feeling vs. no feeling is important.
Cats do not groom what they do not feel.

Cats do not dig in a litter box and squat if they do not feel their bladder.

Cats can be taught to know they are full, come to you to be squeezed, and those that do feel their bladder enough to know they are full, some of them can be put down in a litter box where they will either reflex urinate (no digging) or dig and go.

Thanks to Stick and his people for starting this question. Thats Stick up above :)

Hope to be getting EVERYBODIES stories, bios and pictures up bit by bit.

Kadeth & Boogar

Wheel Chairs

2010-01-20T17:36:00.000-08:00

Alright, this question comes up. How do you build a cart, because they are NOT cheap!

First, check on ebay and on the handicapped pets websites, sometimes you will see one given away or sold.

The patterns is allot llike a horse drawn cart, except instead of the cart behind the animal, the wheels go straight down from the hips. I can say I do not use a cart with Boogar anymore, he crashed into so many things in my house and got stuck...he loved it outside though.

What it did for him is taught him proper walking position, enough so that he figured out how he was supposed to move. His spine did the rest. Mammals have the ability to form a thickened area in the spine below the injury, much like a dinosaurs 'hindbrain'. This becomes a second, not very smart walking brain. Singals from the legs go to the spine, but instead of going to the brain for processing, then head right back down to the feet. There is no 'feeling' because the brian isn't recieving it. But the spine is receiving signals.

This creates reflex or spinal cord walking.

Take a good look at the picture. The frame is light aluminim rods. The wheels are toy wheels or light tool wheels. Around Boogars hips are two bars that have been bent into circles for his legs to go through, padded and wrapped in tape and joined together underneath him ( you can't see that) so that they are like a 'V'.

The wheels have a bar between them, and they connect to a frame that goes up and over. Think of a square of wire rod or rectangle, the bottom bar holds the wheels and the top bar makes sor tof a 'handle' above the hips...and I used it as a handle to grab hin when he took off after bugs...

What holds this all in place is padded straps over his shoulders (1) and under his belly (2)...a well fitted pet harness might also work.

Look around online at the different styles out there. Some of the sites have detailed pictures. Hardware stores have most of the parts. Print a photo and take it in and ask the guys that work there...

Anyone who has a photo of a home made cart, if you want to share photos and plans, let me know....I'll post them.

cool links for carts
http://www.k9cartswest.com/
http://handicappedpets.com/www/index.php/help-pets-walk.html
http://www.webvet.com/main/article?id=2012

boogars cart is by k9carts, made in 2000

Maggot!

2010-01-12T09:15:00.001-08:00

OK, so he has two names...Spider Man ( his grown up name) and Maggot, which if you knew him you'd 'get it'... This is the very first 'baby' photo of Spider Man Maggot, -who was this little shriveled kitten 2 teenage girls brought to my work in tears.

Their mom told them they had 2 hours to 'get rid' of the kitten or he was going to the pound.

I shrugged and took him, he was all of 5 weeks old, and tiny. Someone had done a really good job raising him though, because the little guy was SWEET, and very sociable. So, into Boogar's cage he went. Boogar loves kittens.

Now, Boogar was sick at the time with a nasty bladder infection, which we were waiting on lab results for... Normally bladder infections have no outside contagion, but lucky me and lucky everybody (note sarcasm) this infection was MRSA.

I can not foster or adopt a cat that is healthy...the cat gods will not let me. So a few days into Maggot's stay with me he starts vomiting and looking...crappy. A quick ultrasound later and...he has kidney stones blocking one ureter, and that kidney is beginning to swell with retained urine.

This means death, untreated.

So here I am with this 6 week old kitten, putting an IV in, taking home an IV pump system, setting up and micro emergency room AGAIN in my house (any local contractors want to donate time to do a custom bathroom sized hospital ward in my house?) and filling this little kitten up with meds...

Stoned on sedatives to relax his ureters, Maggot passes the stones, and embarks of several months of meds and fluids. OK, so he never got put up for adoption. Exposed to MRSA, bonded with Boogar and needing medical care....

Go figure....

He's grown up very beautiful now, bonded to Boogar and Jackals best friend. He's had his stupid kitten emergencies (he got a fine spine of glass stuck through his side in his gut that we found on a random xray and we had to go fishing,,,go figure, how he did that I'll never know- he didn't eat it) and works very hard to stay ADD busy, very very busy....

It's hard work to be the biggest lil' maggot in the world...

Abby- who is not a cat

2010-01-10T12:59:00.001-08:00

Once upon a time there was a high wind in the trees, and this palm sized fat ball of black pin feather and blue eyes took a header and fell SPLAT!!! into the parking lot.

Kind souls delivered her to me, and I spent a spring and summer raising a crow baby with the cats.

Abby was cool. She was intelligent, affectionate and very attentive. She followed me hopping (as she could not fly- busted collar bone) around the garden. The chickens HATED her, and thought that although she made 'feed me I'm a baby' noises at them, that she was really plotting to eat her. We avoided the chickens.

Abby had a huge, bathroom sized cage in the house. It had perches, stuff to do a bath and lots of interesting food. It had a window outside and for several years she was content to live there, coming out to chase the lazer pointer with the cats and steal silverware.

Last year Abby turned 5 I think, and she began to call to the outside crows. So I moved her and her entire house into the cat porch, a huge outdoor structure that runs the legnth of my house. It is screened completely in, has a pond and lots of plants... It lets the cats go inside and out without actualy every being outdoors exposed to danger.

Abby lived on the cat porch, learning to leave her house and fly. She grew stronger, more skilled. She began to forage for food in flower pots and although ate her bird pellets, began to mimic the behaviors of wild crows.

She got bigger.

Last week 2 young adult crows came to her and began to talk through the wire. Every day they would come and call to her. Every day she would call back and try to reach them.

This moring I shooed all the cats insdie and opened up the porch for Abby. She went out for the first time, explored, played, screamed at the wind...and flew away, free.

I can hear her in the neighboorhood.

I will watch for her of course, and put out food. I will call her at night and if she comes home, take her in, of course.

I hope the wild crows are good to her, and that she has many babies.

Good Bye Abby. I will miss you.

Free to choose to come or go is really free....

48 hours later...

Abby showed up this morning in the back yard happily calling. She was using the crow 'this is my house' call. I went outside and called her & she called back, watched me for a little, circled around me and returned to her friends.

I hope she keeps showing up.

Update 2/2010

Abby has returned consistantly. She is not 'tame', so she will not come right to me, but I can call her, and she will come to the street. She has chosen a mate, and joined the large local 'murder' (which is what a crow flock is called) of crows. I do miss her, but she needed the right to choose, and she did. I hope she raises many pretty babies and I hope she visits for years.

Grief....

2010-01-04T18:13:00.001-08:00

Focus. The world has gone grey and I have lost the incredible dedicated focus I had with Pumpkin.
Clarity, focus, dedication, the willingness to do anything it took, and to be there, every step of the way…gone in a matter of hours.
Death does that.

I knew from day one that Pumpkin would not be a long lived cat. Although he was younger than Boogar, and his break was in a better place, Boogar would outlive him.
Why and how did I know this?

I see things. I see shadows on bodies and things other people do not. I saw a shadow on Pumpkin. It was in his middle, right where his kidneys overlay the edge of his liver. His pancreas. A shadow.
Of course, this was not a shadow others could see, but none the less it was there. Black, murky, like smoke from a candle wick.

So I knew not to expect him to live a long life.

But what I didn’t expect was to have him be hit with so many different things all at once, and I didn’t expect to wrap my life so completely intertwined with his. My heart kept his heart beating (metaphorically). My lungs kept him breathing. My focus kept him alive.
I didn’t expect it to be so ugly.
I expected some nasty cancer where I’d recognize his last good day and send him on… but not so quick. A few more years….

I didn’t get that. It was harsh, ugly and I stepped up to the plate and built my home into an emergency hospital.

Up at 5, blood sugar, insulin, program the guardian. Feed him, love him, pet him. Antibiotics, enzymes, fluids. Pain meds. Empty his bladder. Go to work. Noon, check him, check sugars, empty bladder. 6 pm, repeat the 5 am dance, midnight repeat noon’s treatment. Never miss a time, never miss a day, never miss a treatment, never be late…

Did I sleep? Yes, a few hours on the couch next to him, listening for his monitor. But it was fine, I was good with that. So what my blood was laced with caffeine, and I was samurai laughing in the face of the unendurable. I was OK with that, the clarity, the focus the dedication…

Death caught me unaware, by surprise. I had worked so hard, done everything… and no matter what, I could not stop death.

I didn’t expect death to come sudden, although I knew death was watching us. I figured I’d get more ‘notice’.

But no. I got enough time to call dad and have him come, got enough time to call his vet and check in with her, enough time to compose myself and be strong for Pumpkin, for Boogar and for his dad…

But no time for myself.

No one to be strong for me, strong enough to accept my tears, my heartbreak, my feelings of utter exhaustion and failure as something I am not... a doctor.

Now I sleep. I have lost Pumpkin, and lost focus. I have been hit by devastating depression, where the tears of exhaustion, grief and loss that never fell threaten to fall all the time.

So there you are. Delayed grief, shock, depression and …just a wretched empty hole in my heart where focus, clarity and Pumpkin lived….

Is there anybody out there?

Fizz, who had distemper and ...lived

2009-12-22T09:47:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, years ago I fostered kittens for the SPCA. I was the person in my area that the SPCA brought those kittens that were in need of special care to. Special care? This meant I got the ones kissed by death....

Fizz was older than he looked. He might have been 6 weeks old, maybe 8 weeks, but he was the size of a 2 week old kitten. He was that odd combination of pot belly and emaciation that goes with terrible neglect. He was brown, not black- that is where he had hair. His hindquarters were covered with fecal and urine burns and were a mass of pink, wet sores clotted with dead skin and feces. he looked for all the world like some little alien cat, with huge eyes, a wrinkled head and bat ears. He wanted to eat 'real' food, but was too weak to do anything but drink kitten milk mixed with baby food in a bottle.

Fizz was taken on a 'raid'. A 'rescue' person had collected kittens and had them housed in cages, one stacked on the other. Urine and feces fell through to the bottom, covering the cats in the lower cages. Kitten and cats in cages filled this person's house. There were dead cats and kittens as well.

Fizz was one. Just one. I do not know where the others went. All I know is that this person was forbidden to have pets in my area, and moved away....

But on to Fizz. Fizz was so little that the SPCA thought he should have company, and they sent over a 10 day old kitten (who was the same size as Fizz) to keep him company. This was Puff. Puff and Fizz. Fizz and Puff.

Things did not go well. Fizz was incubating distemper. Distemper kills cats, just like that. There are very very few survivors.

My adult cats are vaccinated, and I boosted everyone's vaccines prior to taking on foster kittens.

Puff and Fizz had distemper. I made an isolation ward out of my kitchen. Their kennel was draped in plastic, I had bleach, gloves, a gown, a mask a cap, and no other animals were allowed near them. They had meds every 2 hours round the clock.... They vomited, had yellow diarrhea, cried pathetically, cramped with gas, and sat huddled together on heat, their stool running out of them like water.

I will be honest. I prayed every night that they would pass gently. I would get up at midnight, at 2 am , and at 4 am, hoping they had gone..... as distemper is horrible, but I had promised I would try....

Puff died. Fizz survived. Puff's post mortem labs confirmed distemper. You have to post them and confirm distemper out of kindness to those who are in your care... otherwise you blindly infect and kill others who come your way.

Fizz slowly got through distemper. He began to grow. His wounds sloughed and healed bright pink sheets of scars that bound his rear legs and tail. The scars stretched, and sometimes cracked and bled. Fur tried to grow over them and made black peach fuzz. Fizz shed his sickly brown fur and grew glossy black...

Today Fizz is about 11 or 12 years old. He never left to be adopted out because the scars he had as a kitten took several years to ease and heal. You can still find them if you part his hair and look.

I find what the worst part of Fizz's story is that someone claimed to be a cat rescue person, passed around a business card that looked legit, took on litters of kittens and subjected them to concentration camp torture, all in the name of misguided love. It's called 'hording' or 'collecting' and if you google it you can see what cat collecting and hording looks like.

It's not having lots of cats. Many people have more cats than you would be comfortable with and provide them excellent care and comfort. It's having more cats than you can care for, and not recognising that you can not give them even marginal care...and believing only you can save them all. All.....

The Song of the Wild One... Jackal

2009-12-13T07:31:00.000-08:00

Pumpkin's dad, Kevin called me about a year and a half ago. He'd been on the road and stopped at a motel for the night and the motel was home for about fifty cats. It was summer, and there were kittens everywhere, skinny, runny eyed, wild kittens.

Now this motel had some long term residents and yes, people put out food for the cats. The cats drank from a swimming pool and a low, foul creek. They lived under dumpsters, behind trash bins, and hid under the cars watching , watching , watching.

Most of them struggled to get enough to eat. many were covered with matts and scars. Welcome to the life of a feral cat colony.

Now Kevin is a man who does NOT look the other way when it comes to animals. So he wanted to know if we coudl take my cat trap out there and trap kittens, tame them and place them. He knew of at least one person looking for a kitten, and was certain we could catch many of these kittens.

OK. I know that feral kittens do not always tame. There is a window in their life where they do. If they are caught befor about 5 weeks old, they tame well. Older, they might be OK in a house, but it's not likely they will become a sweet, socaible and friendly cat.

We took my cat trap out and caught kittens. Not all of them, they were way to smart. They knew what a trap was. But we got a few of them.

Jackal was one. Wild and terrified, skinny, dehydrated, starved. The tip of her tail was dead. She came home with me and went into quarenteen, got medical care, and went into intensive daily petting and people contact.

A home waited for her...

But, she never 'tamed'. Jackal tolerates me. But she loves the cats. She is Boogar's girl, and has grow up free, fierce and strong. She never went to her 'new home' because they wanted a sweet and friendly cat. But she has a forever home with Boogar, and the others.

Peeps and Crow

2009-12-03T15:13:00.000-08:00

The lilac siamese is Peeps. Rescued from saddly, a foster- Peeps was one of a litter of four, bottle raised until weaned, then thrown into a cold garage with a bowl of water and dry dog kibble. Aparently the foster only liked kittens when they were drinking milk, and once weaned she lost interest.

At 4 months, when he was taken away from

the foster, he weighed 2 pounds .....

He should have weighted about 6 pounds.

Peeps had cataracts on both eyes from protein deficiancies, and had lost most of his hair. It took him awhile to get caught up.

Behind Peeps is Sage, the lynx point. Sage was found with her brother, at about 4 weeks old in a cardboard box, cooking in summer weather on a sidewalk. Both were almost dead from heat exhaustion, starvation and dehydration. For the first few months of Sage's life she seizured without fail every morning from a random drop in blood sugar that we could not prevent. I'd feed her every 2 hours, and some mornings she'd pass out and siezure, some she would not.

The grey kitty is Crow. Crow and her sister were dropped off in a box, starved and exposed to distemper. They were lucky, neither contracted the disease, which is generaly fatal to unvaccinated cats.

Pumpkin and Boogar, the spinal cord party boys...

2009-12-02T18:59:00.000-08:00

It's been four years that I have wrapped my heart and life around Pumpkin, and eleven years of bonds that tie with love and life with Boogar.

They were the best of friends, after of course a peroid of feline 'you are weird go away' adjustment. Boogar is the crazy looking black cat...with one of his kitten friends. He likes kittens.

Pumpkin is the Orange Cat, on his last day. Pumpkin died thanksgiving day, due to extraodinary complications with diabetes, pancreatits, liver failure and finaly, kidney failure. Each organ system literaly 'died'.

Now as I try to let go with love and respect, and hold his memeory in my heart, I watch Boogar. He copes, in his zen tough cat way. But each night he insists on sleeping on the couch, his face pressed into the blankets Pumpkin last rested on. The lingering scent of his friend gives him comfort, the warmth of the blankets offers some solace in his cat grief.

While I ponder the bonds of love and trust between these two cats, I also think of the owners out there in the world who worry tonight, who struggle, who are afraid for their loved furry one, and my heart goes out to you all. You are not alone in your difficulties, in your sorrows, and inyour joys.

So this blog... it's for several things. Stories of the adventures of Pumpkin and Boogar, the spinal cord party boys... information networking for owners... basics of paralyzed cat care.

And if you have reached me, and you'd like me to post aletter you write, or story...let me know. This blog is for you, readers, pet owners..and most of all for those brave souls who have contacted me through my website, and have asked for assistance giving extrodinary care to their pets.

Welcome

2009-12-01T15:08:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time there was a 4 week old kitten caught by a dog with a fractured spine. Through a course of events I could not predict, I chose to keep him and raise him.
He is now 11 years old, and has been paralyzed his whole life.

This does not mean he is crippled, or 'poor kitty', but rather that he is strong, healthy and well adapted to living without working rear legs.

And I am adapted to caring for him.

I have gained so much in caring for him.
I have gained wisdom, peace, knowledge and fire.
I have gained Pumpkin...and lost him
Through Pumpkin, I gained my best bro, adopted big brother, best guy friend Kevin, who found me and Boogar online, and brought Pumpkin into my care when Pumpkin was shot by...evil people.
I have gained....

May you gain now from me.

Over the past years I have massed allot of information of care of special needs cats. Having 30 years in veterinary medicine helps, having been a scrub nurse for a veterinary neurosurgeon helps, and being really passioate about medicine..well that helps most of all.

So this blog is for all those people who come to my main website, where I can post letters, and pictures, connect people and so on...without overwhelming my donated web hosting.

Peace

Kadeth

http://www.kadethdarkstar.com/