Cat Daddy and I took Louis Catorze back to the vet on Friday, for his follow-up. The appointment was with Tom, whom we think is Catorze’s favourite vet because he doesn’t scream that much when Tom is handling him, and he’s only tried to kick him once.
Sadly Catorze will never be cured of his cardiomyopathy, and the best we can hope for is managing it through medication. But the good news is that even the few days spent on his new regime of pills and Parma ham has made a difference; the little sod has lost 240g of his abdominal fluid build-up, and his belly is feeling much softer. The raging thirst that I had been witnessing, it turns out, is actually a good thing, because the third mystery pill, whose purpose I initially couldn’t remember, is a diuretic to flush out the excess fluid, and drinking lots of water is part of this process.
One slight worry, however, is that steroid shots aren’t compatible with all these new meds. So, unless Catorze scratches himself to the point of bleeding – which he has done before, and I daresay he would do it again – we will have to either resort to the slightly less dangerous but still not ideal steroid pills, or give steroids a miss altogether and just hope that he magically heals.
Catorze is noticeably less sprightly than he was a month or two ago, and I don’t know whether this is his illness, old age, the cold weather, or him just being a lazy shit. But he’s eating, drinking and purring, and enjoying Boys’ Club every night, so, for now, we shall just carry on as we are and make sure he has every comfort possible.
For more Catorzian capers, please visit http://louiscatorze.com
