Herman's Virtual Prowl Pawty

Herman celebrates his 11th birthday on Wednesday, January 18th.

On Friday, January 20th at 7:30 p.m. Central Time, his Twitter friends are invited to gather in his garden for birthday noms.

And then for Adventure! Mystery...and Peril!

Limited seating available. If you like Survivor. If you like mystery games. Then RSVP to @TattleCat today.

HCM: Feline Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy

What is Feline Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy?

More easily referred to as HCM, this disease is a thickening of the heart muscle, and is believed to be largely genetic in origin, with several breeds considered suspect. It is found most often in middle-aged cats, and in males. Although there is no known cure for this condition, with prompt diagnosis and early treatment, cats may live on for years after diagnosis. HCM is often associated with Hyperthyroidism in cats. Congestive Heart Failure (CHF)sometimes results from HCM.

What are the Symptoms of HCM?

Unfortunately, one of the first symptoms may be heart failure and death, an important reason why cats with any of the "at-risk" diseases should be monitored carefully for heart health. Other symptoms include:

Sudden appearance of dyspnea (difficulty breathing)
Anorexia
Lethargy and/or weakness
Syncope (fainting)
Limb paralysis (rear legs may be affected)

Clinical symptoms include a heart murmur or a pulse over 200. Further tests would then be needed.

Other symptoms may also present. A reader who lost her cat to HCM following surgery wrote me: I have since found out that it can be very hard to diagnose heart problems in cats because they compensate so well by limiting their activity. However, sitting upright or seeming reluctant to lie down are classic signs of fluid building up in the lungs as the heart starts to actually fail. These postures help keep the fluid away from the heart and the top of the lungs. Other signs of heart failure can include lethargy, lack of appetite, coughing, gagging, or labored, rapid, or very shallow breathing. If a blood clot forms, the clot can get lodged in an artery leading to the hind legs and cause paralysis as well as a lot of pain.

How is Diagnosis Made? 

Radiographs (X-Rays)

May show enlargement of the heart or a "valentine shape" of the heart sometimes seen with HCM. 
Electrocardiogram (ECG)
May show several patterns distinctive with HCM. 
Echocardiography or Doppler
Often used to confirm or enhance other findings. 
Blood Work-Up
Elevated values may reflect systemic arterial hypertension or hyperthyroidism.

For a more complete explanation of these tests, read the excellent article at Max's House.

How is Feline Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy Treated?:

Treatment will depend on the progression of the disease in the cat, and includes: 

Beta Blockers: atenolol and metoprolol. These drugs help improve the "filling" function of the left ventricle, which will subsequently increase the volume of blood flowing to the lungs, helping to decrease pulmonary edema. 

Calcium Channel Blockers : diltiazem. Also help improve heart function, by reducing heart rate and myocardial oxygen consumption. 

Treat underlying conditions 

Most often Hyperthyroidism and/or hypertension (high blood pressure.) 

ACE Inhibitors:enalapril or benazepril

Ongoing clinical trials with cats seem to indicate that these drugs may work better than Beta Blockers, for improving heart function. 

Diuretics: Help to reduce pulmonary edema. Because of the potential for negative side effects. renal function must be monitored carefully when diuretics are used.

Other Forms of Cardiomyopathy:

This profile refers to Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (sometimes known as Idiopathic HCM.)Another type of cardiomyopathy is Dilated Cardiomyopathy, which is related to insufficient taurine in the diet. Fortunately, all cat food manufacturers supplement their foods with taurine, so this disease is becoming rarer. A third condition, Restrictive/Intermediate Cardiomyopathy, mimics HCM in history and examination, but can be differentiated with echocardiography. Unfortunately, its prognosis is poor.

How Long Can my Cat Live with HCM?:

Each cat carries his own history, and it is impossible to predict the prognosis of any cat with HCM. However, existing technology offers the possibility of several more months to several years with current therapy, and depending on the overall condition of the cat at diagnosis. A dedicated cat caregiver and companion can help by working closely with her veterinarian, and by providing a warm, stress-free environment for her cat.

Cammie Says Good-Bye

Tomorrow I go over the rainbow bridge

Dear loving friends and furriends,

With the #healingpurrs, #purrayers and #StrengthAndSupport of you all, and all who have sat with me on #cammiesporch, I’ve lived about two months longer than the veterinarian first predicted when he diagnosed my cancer at the beginning of October.

I’ve had a happy life with wonderful furriends, friends, and family, and a wonderful love-friend in @PepeBlackCat.

I’ll miss you all, but it’s my time to go over the rainbow bridge.  Mama and Papa will take me to the vet tomorrow morning, and I’ll pass over to the loving care of all who have gone before. @HollieCatRocks has promised to watch over me since Mama and Papa won’t be there yet, and @buckypg has promised to save me a special place in the black cat section.  I don’t think he’ll share his bourbon with me, but that’s okay.  I like water better – just like Pepe.

When you look into the sky tomorrow, my star will be glowing more brightly, shedding it’s light and love on all of you.

Special {{{ BlackenedCatShrimpSnugglesWithTailsEntwined }}} to my Pepe-Love-Cat.

I love you all.

 Until we meet again,

Cammie

Update on Cammie

You met Cammie on November 29th when her Mom, Janeson Keeley, wrote about her special needs. Today I got an update from Janeson regarding Cammie:

Cammie basks in the light of Janeson's major award.

I took Cammie to the vet today.

The good news: Cammie’s heart and lungs sound good and she is showing no signs on infection. She is still loving and sweet and purry, except when the vet rinses out her mouth, at which point she turns into the Tasmanian Devil.

The bad news: The mass on Cammie’s cheek is now growing around her jaw and into her mouth. She has lost some more weight (although not as much as I had feared), and she is hiding more often. (I found her in the very back of the bedroom closet behind practically everything in there when I went to look for her to take her to the vet.)

Dr. Jonen, who is just about the sweetest person you could ever meet, told me how to tell when it’s time to help Cammie over the rainbow bridge. At the rate the mass is growing, she estimates two weeks.

Hoping to have my Cammie-Cat for Christmas, but even more hoping that she won’t suffer.

Love to all on #cammiesporch. I don’t know what I would do without you!

Janeson

http://janeson59.com/2011/12/15/report-from-cammiesporch/#comment-596

Blue Christmas: It's Cold South of Graceland

It’s been unusually cold here, south of Graceland. I now realize Elvis was singing about how cold he was when he sang “Blue Christmas.”

We’ve been here since 2006, and in years past we’ve had a few snow-days or ice-days in January or February. However we’ve had both already and Christmas, as of this writing, is still 15 days off.

With the onset of winter, my first priority is the animals. Not just my cats, but also the critters that live in the creek and trees behind my house. Old Yeller dog food is a staple for my raccoons and possums, along with food donations from friends like day-old bread, cookies, peanuts, and peanut butter sandwiches. No, I don’t put bananas in with the PB.

I buy a large bag of nuts for the squirrels to enjoy. One year I watched a squirrel deliberate over a large walnut. He tried to bite it, but it was thick-shelled and huge for his mouth. He worked on it for at least 10 minutes. Finally, with clear disgust, he pitched it aside in favor of something smaller. I now make sure to crack the larger nuts. I also keep a bag of birdseed in my car to scatter in parking lots around town. If you’ve seen a pile of birdseed on the ground when you pull into Kroger…you know I’ve been there.

Wal-Mart carries cheap blankets. I load up with enough to give my outdoor cats a fresh blanket all their own, free from last-year’s stray smells. Although I wash formerly used blankets, I know the cats can still smell the other cat that used it. This year I have Tab Hunter, a handsome tabby who showed up this fall. He’s yet to be neutered; however he’s rooming with Jesse the Wonder Cat. Jesse isn’t happy about sharing his tent; however I’ve set up both cats with their own beds and heat lamps. Their only face-to-face time comes while one is eating and the other enters the tent. After yowling and posturing, they settle down to eat, and then slide into bed.

We purchased two large tarps from Lowes and hung them from the porch rafters using rope through the eyeholes in the tarp. The length is long enough for me to place an old table on the excess length, and that is what I put Jesse’s house on. Cats prefer to get high up off the ground, if at all possible. I draped an old fabric-lined plastic tablecloth over his house, to keep dampness off, and I lined the house with old cushions. I put an old pillow around the inside back, and covered that with a blanket. With the heat lamp several inches away, not to close as to roast him, he’s very snuggly.

Tab’s bed will most likely change. I want to get him inside a cat house, but for now he’s sleeping on a cushioned chair, with a blanket hanging to deflect a direct breeze. He’s lying on a mat designed to warm under his body heat. He has another blanket he’s laying on and of course, his heat lamp. So far he seems very comfortable.

I have two other cat beds under Jesse’s table. Gidget, Jesse’s daughter, has been sleeping inside my laundry room at night. However, for days when she’s being stubborn, I want to be sure she has a safe place to sleep. 

Black cats are notoriously smart. She “gets it” that if she comes inside at night, she will have a warm cup bed, food, and most important--central heat to warm her fuzzy toes!

Some girls carry purses. I carry cats.

Everyone loves a happy twist to a homeless stray story. I'm so happy my new friend, author Ruth J. Hartman, has one to share.

I have always loved cats. And they have always loved me. For those of you who know cats, you know it has to go both ways to work. Most every picture of me growing up, I’m holding at least one cat. Some girls carry purses. I carry cats.

Like right now, Maxwell is napping on my lap. Eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. Afraid if he looks at me, I’ll boot him off my lap. Not that I would do that. Only in dire emergencies. I have to use the bathroom. My legs are asleep. I need some chocolate from the fridge. You get the idea. Maxwell doesn’t have much to worry about. He’s loved and protected.

If he only knew what I saved him from.

Four years ago, he showed up at our house. Cold. Wet. And loud. We’d had only one cat for years. Baxter. I knew Baxter wouldn’t be crazy about having a brother. But I couldn’t let Max stay outside to die. I just couldn’t. He was so skinny, you could see all his ribs through his fur. And he developed a huge abscess on his cheek.

Once at the vet, they tested Maxwell for feline leukemia. Yep. He had it. Their recommendation was to euthanize him. I argued that Baxter had gotten the feline leukemia vaccine for years. Not because he went outside. But because there’d be times when he would sit in the open windows in the summer. The only thing separating him from the outside feral cats was a thin screen.

The vet said the vaccine wasn’t 100%. My husband and I talked it over. We decided to take a chance. Max, now fat and sassy, is healthy and happy. Living like a chubby king with his sister Roxy. She also gets the vaccine because of Max. She showed up much like he did. Alone. Scared. Wanting nothing more than to be a part of a loving forever home.

Baxter, our original cat, died the year after we got Roxy. He’d always had health issues, so we only got to have him for eight years. But he was loved. Oh, how he was loved! Garry and I don’t have any children, so my cats are my kids.

I was glad to have two other cats when Baxter died. It was so hard, letting him go, but I had the love and comfort of the other two. It was then I decided I would always have at least two cats. Because coming home to an empty, catless house is simply unthinkable.

Author Ruth J. Hartman spends her days cleaning teeth, and her nights spinning sweet romantic tales that make you giggle, laugh, and all-out guffaw. She, her husband, and their two cats, love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats, Maxwell and Roxy, sit in the people's recliners. Not that the cats couldn't get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else's. You know how selfish those little furry creatures can be.

Ruth, a left-handed, tooth-scraping, Jeep driving, farmhouse-dwelling romance writer uses her goofy sense of humor as she writes tales of lovable, klutzy women and the men who adore them. Ruth's husband and best friend, Garry, reads her manuscripts, rolls his eyes at her weird story ideas, and loves her in spite of her penchant for insisting all of her books have at least one cat in them. Or twelve. But hey, who's counting?

Visit Ruth's blog at www.ruthjhartman.blogspot.com

Ruth J. Hartman is the Author of:

"My Life in Mental Chains" http://tinyurl.com/4pbjp2m

"Pillow Talk" http://tinyurl.com/4jxq5xm

"Flossophy of Grace" http://tinyurl.com/4bjc56j  **Editor's Pick**

  "Purrfect Voyage" http://tinyurl.com/4lt3snw

"Grin and Barrett" http://tinyurl.com/3sbrbn6

"Men in Uniform" http://tinyurl.com/7sszt4e

 "Murphy in the Paw-Paw Patch" http://tinyurl.com/7gcazfz

Cat People by Janeson Keeley

Please welcome my new friend, Janeson Keeley. I connect with her because she is like me, a devoted cat caretaker. I also think her husband should be dipped in gold for his wonderful purrrspective on the quality of life for their beloved Cammie.

There are two types of people: People who divide people into two types and people who don’t. I’m sort of OCD, so I fall into the second category.

When you’re one of those “two types” of people, one of the most obvious categorizations is “dog person” or “cat person”.

I am a cat person.

I was raised with dogs. In fact, as a child I was a little afraid of cats. But when I asked my first husband to take his toys and go home and decided that I needed “someone” to come live with me so I didn’t get lonely and make the dreadful mistake of asking my soon-to-be-ex to come back, it did not occur to me to get a dog. I wanted a cat. They don’t bark, you don’t have to walk them, and they don’t drool – the exact opposite of my first husband. I went directly to the “Free Pets” section of the classified ads.

Of course, you can’t pick out a cat out for yourself. You present yourself to one or more cats and see if one them picks you. I was lucky; at the first place I visited there was a whole litter of kittens, but the littlest one, a shiny black girl kitten with green eyes, crawled up my leg with her sharp little claws. I’d been adopted!

I had always named my cars (Benjamin the Rabbit, Daniel the Celica, etc.). One of my high school friends told me that if I ever had a child, I’d probably name it Pontiac or Volkswagen. I was driving a Toyota at the time, so my new furriend was christened “Toyota Marie,” quickly and mercifully shortened to Yoyo. (I never did have children, thank goodness!)

Three days after Yoyo adopted me – only 12 days after I had separated from first husband – I met a guy in a parking lot and brought him home to meet Yoyo. When he told me that he has been “raised by cats” and thought it was cute that Yoyo would pick cigarette butts out of theashtray and put them in his shoes. I knew I had a keeper. (When a cat brings you a dead, smelly thing, it’s an expression of love.)

He asked me to move in with him “so Yoyo won’t be alone so much”, and we got married. Yoyo was our loving and playful companion for 16 years before she developed a tumor in her mouth. She was diagnosed with untreatable salivary gland cancer. She lived for four months after that, getting weaker and thinner and sicker.

The hardest thing to know is when to have a beloved pet put to sleep. Yoyo hated to be picked up, so when I picked her up and she didn’t fight me, I knew it was time.

The veterinarian took Yoyo to the lab room to put the catheter in her front leg. When he carried her back to us, he explained that he would give her three shots. Before he could even put her down on the table, Yoyo looked at us, gave out her best “I’m half-Siamese MEOWR!” and passed over the rainbow bridge without having gotten the first shot. She always had to have the last word.

About four months later, I was adopted by another shiny black girl kitten with green eyes who told me in no uncertain terms that her name was “Cammie," not “Cameron.” While different from Yoyo in some ways, she was still very much a black cat.

Cammie is 13 now and two months ago she developed a lump on her left cheek. Her vet thought it might be an abscessed tooth, so I took her in for surgery. When the veterinarian who did the surgery went to pull out the tooth, she found that it wasn’t attached to anything. She told me that Cammie had some sort of cancerous tumor and that the only treatment was radical surgery – removal of part of her face – and then radiation treatments.

No way was I going there.

Her regular vet called and told me that Cammie probably had just a few weeks to live. I visited her daily at the hospital with her toys and treats and catnip. They sent her home with me on a Friday with some pain medication. Over the weekend she started having trouble breathing. I gave her the pain medication and that helped, but it made her very sleepy.

On Monday the veterinarian called to ask how Cammie was doing. I told him about having to give the pain meds to her, and he said, “I’ve been thinking. There might be a way to reduce the rate of growth of the mass. Would you be willing to bring her in again?”

Well, yeah!

We started Cammie on a routine of weekly antibiotic injections, monthly long-acting prednisone injections, and transdermal methimazole to treat her hyperthyroidism. She improved immediately, and the veterinarian was almost as pleased as we were.

“I’m a cat person,” he said. “They’ll surprise you. You can never count a cat out.”

When I explained the treatment regimen and the weekly cost to my husband, he said that he hoped that she lived long enough for us to have to spend a whole bunch of money on her - not on radical treatments, where you spend a lot with the chance of getting just a little - but on what it takes weekly to slow the growth of the tumor and keep Cammie happy and comfortable.

The mass hasn’t grown substantially since. She has a little trouble eating, but she can eat turkey and tuna, and “soup” – dry food in water. My husband and I feed her several times a day, love on her as much as she wants, play “tail on a stick” with her and basically spoil her (and her tabby sister, Stripey) rotten.

It takes time and money to take care of Cammie – to take her to the vet every week, to get her specially compounded methimazole and administer it twice a day, to love on her and give her all the attention she wants. We can’t go on overnight trips because she won’t eat for other people. I guess it’s a lot of “work,” but we’ll keep doing these things as long as we can because she’s our Cammie-Cat, and we love her very much.

One day we’ll have to make “the decision,” but because of a compassionate veterinarian who really likes cats (why are so many vets “dog people”?), who was willing to try an unconventional treatment, and who calls just to see how Cammie is doing, we'll have more time to spend with her and a guide who won't give up on her prematurely to help us make the decision. 
 

For Cammie’s strength and love, for her veterinarian’s compassion and wisdom, for a generous and loving husband, and for having the money and time that allow us to care for and enjoy Cammie, I am truly grateful.

Janeson Keeley is a web site developer and published writer. When the spirit moves her, she blogs about her cats, life, the universe and everything at http://janeson59.com. She lives in Roanoke, Virginia with her beloved spouse and their two pointy-eared, long-tailed fur-children. You can follow her cats on Twitter at @HerGraceTheCat and @ThatStripeyCat and visit them on #cammiesporch. You can follow her on Twitter at @janeson59, but her cats are more interesting and have more followers.