Seishi turned up sick, refusing food…
We’ve been blaming his weight loss on our attempts to keep Shu on a diet, and his skittishness and leaving food on Shu’s tendency to gulp his own and then shove Seishi out.
But it got to absolute refusal to eat. And Jane suggested a pattern in the behavior, like refusing a crunchy treat after begging for it—that suggested teeth.
Well, yes. Gingivitis. Maybe needing a teeth cleaning. Short-faced cats have particular problems in that line. I took him to the vet.
The weight loss and a constellation of other items in the exam indicated we needed a blood test and urinalysis. Done. Seishi was very good throughout it all.
We got him home. Shu pitched a fit, first glad to see him, then, when he got a whiff of the disinfectant from the blood draw, Shu slapped Sei, who’d already had a bad morning. Sei slapped back, unusual for him; so we had to keep them apart. Shu is hysterically upset about vets, Sei wasn’t feeling well…but chowed down on tuna that I’d whipped to a paste. So his appetite was there.
So I waited for the results. At 4:35 I got a call: white count down a bit, kidneys ok. But again, the pattern could indicate feline leuk. Had he been tested? I knew he’d been vaccinated. They had a Xerox of his papers from the vet in Montana (where his cattery is)—and it was late to call Montana. But my vet did, got the earlier vet—and no, he never had been tested for either leuk or feline aids, though he’s been vaccinated, along with his litter. The good news was that his cattery has always tested clean, and the cattery requires the test of any animal that comes into their premises, and does not allow visitors and customers general contact with the cats. They ship internationally, and any cat that goes out of that cattery has to have all sorts of tests to be certified: there has never, ever been a cat from there fail the test. So the odds are in Seishi’s favor.
Shu was both tested and vaccinated before we got Seishi. But the smart thing to do is to go ahead and test.
Fortunately a fast call to the lab that had just done the blood test indicated they had enough sample left for the next test, so I’ll get the results of that today, and then we’ll know for sure where we stand.
But yesterday was a real non-productive day.
If it can distract you, saw this thing today that made me think of Atevi / Aiji : http://www.thestar.com/business/article/1222162–psychopathy-and-the-ceo-top-executives-have-four-times-the-incidence-of-psychopathy-as-the-rest-of-us
Lol—I think if you analyze the great military and social leaders of the ages—you’ll find they would be viewed with suspicion. I have to slip into these mindsets when I write someone who is charged with making decisions that most people never want to make; and there’s a very different ethic going, where it regards people in charge of life-and-death, “lose one key guy in the plan” vs. lose a dozen protecting him type decisions. In point of fact the old Romans actually taught this code of behavior to the general public, in the stories they taught their children. I used to amuse myself during the ‘testing’ we took in the education certification program, where we were studying the tests themselves, by taking the test as, eg, an ancient Greek, or an ancient Roman, or a Celt, say;—I made darned certain which tests were theoretical and which were actually going on our records. But boy! could I skew the results.
I’m going to stick my neck out and ask you, which code of behavior did the Romans teach, the key guy or the bodyguards? Do we believe that it’s more important to have the ruthless legion commander or the 12 men assigned to protect him? If those 12 men are all killed, do we divert another 12 men from the battle to protect the leader? I think I know what Julius Caesar would say, but that was Britain and Gaul, not say, modern France and Germany.
In modern military, we are supposed to communicate to ensure that every echelon is aware of the plan, or at least their part of it as well as a couple of levels above, so that if the overall plan changes, people know to ask the right questions of the right people. Leaving one person as the only one who knows the plan and the criteria for making those life-and-death decisions is asking for a disaster. JMHMO (just my humble military opinion)
Examples of Roman stories: 1)Camilla, a young girl handed over to the enemy camped across the Tiber, as a hostage, along with other children: she led the children in an escape by night, from the tents, swam the Tiber (not an easy swim) with her cohorts—and so doing, embarrassed the enemy; the fathers all returned the children to the enemy as they had given their word; the girl did it again. The fathers explained to the children they had to stay. According to one version, Camilla immediately did it again, so impressing the enemy with her determination and with the parents’ adherence to their given word, that the enemy returned the children and accepted a verbal agreement.
2) Regulus, a general, who was set in charge of a mess over in N Africa, to hold-place against Carthage with a Spartan renegade advising the other side (not a good situation), was captured along with his men. He was set free to return to Rome to tell Rome to sign a peace of the Carthaginians’ composition or they would kill all the prisoners. Regulus stated that he advised Rome to reject the blackmail, but that he could not advise that unless he returned to die with his men. He did so. Rome rejected the treaty, all the hostages were killed, and Rome waded into the next campaign mad and with a no-quarter attitude.
3) A general’s two sons decided to be heroes and won their action, but the general had been so emphatic about the order to stand fast and not risk the action that he had said he would execute any officer who broke ranks. He ordered the death of his own sons, as having violated orders in the field. The ‘in the field’ part means that while there might have been leniency under non-combat conditions, once they led troops in harms’ way and violated his order, the father had no choice.
There are a thousand of them. The bottom line is, don’t overstate, don’t violate orders, don’t ask your troops to do what you won’t, and don’t make excuses. In the case you cite, the whole Roman line was organized on the principle that the line troops stand in front, in a 5-spot on a die formation, and the recruits stand in the middle rank out of action, and the veterans stand in the third rank to cut down any recruits that bolt; and to make sure they move up if there’s a hole in the front line. Your turn comes, you move into your slot and you hold it. So yes, if the first guys go down, next up goes in, with mechanical precision.
The general usually occupied the height so he could see. He had riders near him he would dispatch with orders to the standard-bearers of various units with precise orders, and there were horn-signals as well. As a line soldier, you went where your standardbearer led, and the standard-bearer had, of necessity, to go unarmed, guarded by his comrades who, if he fell, would take up the standard and carry on as ordered. Any time that standard fell, it HAD to be picked up and moved, or a whole unit would be thrown into confusion. There were legion standards, maniple standards, and cohort standards, and they moved in concert, so there was some constant backup—but this is where we get our flag etiquette: it used to be the whole communications system.
The general had aides (tribuni) who did message-running and who did know what they were supposed to be doing. Before an engagement, there was a group meeting in which they informed everybody down to the sergeants (centurions) what the general plan was.
And if things went to hades in a handbasket, and the battle began to come toward the commander, he was supposed to go into it as well: Caesar intervened like that during the Civil War, grabbing one fleeing recruit by the collar and shoving him back, yelling the Latin equivalent of, “Hey, you! The battle’s that way” and rallying his troops into a renewed sense that organization was still operating: they won. His advice to his seasoned Gallic Wars troops facing the ‘city’ troops was “Aim for their faces. These pretty boys care about their looks.” And it apparently worked. The troops who’d mostly seen only drill-field maneuvers did not withstand the veterans of 10 years in the northern wars.
Thank you. I was familiar with some of the tactics used, but was just not clear on which way the Romans felt about the commander or the bodyguards being more expendable.
As fascinating as warfare might seem from a historical point of view, it had to be horrible from a legionary’s point of view. You’re holding a 48 pound wooden and metal shield, if your pilum has broken, you haul out the gladius hispanica and start stabbing. Given that during the months from March until say October, you were fighting, and it does get quite warm in Italy, as well as the other countries around the Mediterranean, and you’ve got that heavy lorica as well as the leather undercoat on and you are cramped in the line with your comrades on either side of you fighting, the ones behind you pressing their attack, if they had an opening, and of course, your opponent across the line. It makes it quite amazing that a soldier could survive warfare long enough to retire and earn his farm. Well, those soldiers that were worth their salt (yes, pun intended) and didn’t buy the farm (also intended).
It was brutal hot in Italy; you froze on the wall—the hot baths were very popular— In use of the pilum, you had 3. It was to shake up the enemy. You’d advance, get the order Fire One, stop and launch one, so with two, and all that weight of iron coming down would hit the enemy and slow and confuse any barbarian attack; often you were advised to drop the third one and go for the sword. But the Romans didn’t stand shoulder to shoulder. They left a gap as they engaged—for the second rank to take care of those that got through the gap. This tactic they got from the Samnites—who beat them with it, first encounter. It required more skill and training than a phalanx used, because you had to defend your space with shield and sword, not just tail on to a 20 foot spear and push for hours. But if a guy went down, the next back stepped in, and so on, so the line should stay orderly, 5-spot on the die in order. The shield was also an offensive weapon, in their hands, and the gladius was far shorter than the Gallic longsword. This meant while the Gaulish warrior had to swing his sword, the Roman laid his midriff open, or cut at him with forehand or backhand. Most swords of the day were edge-weapons, but while the gladius had a 2 edges, it was a good point weapon, easy to control, and had that center groove to be sure you could pull it out. Its greatest drawback was the cross-guard—a lot of guys ended up three-fingered, from the habit of looping a finger over the guard to relieve the strain of holding onto it. It was, however, a very short guard, and did not lend itself to the nasty trick of disarming an opponent in French foil by over-reaching with a bell guard. (The serious weapons in the French and Italian arsenal have better grips.) The soldier also carried a dagger, which was variously tool, eating utensil, and weapon in an equipment crisis. One thing about the gladius, however—those things were built, a tang going clear up the grip, a solid crossguard—more metal than wood, and an edge capable of breaking bone even if the edge didn’t go through, say, quilting. I have a blade of a little (not much) lighter weight that’s also iron, and has a similar, not sharp, edge. I used to take it to class to demo what an iron blade could do—splitting a piece of wood with no effort. Well, I had my little demo kit lying on my desk before class, and one of my girls picked it up, took a half-hearted whack, and deeply nicked a plywood desk. That wasn’t the only time. One of my 16 year old lads took it up once, and took a downward cut at a desk back. Took out the whole top backrest. Kindling. The lad was very shocked.
And: NEWS FLASH! the tests are back, and they are NEGATIVE! He’s just fine, and is scheduled for his little routine procedure on Monday.
Big sigh of relief.
Good!
Very, very glad to hear this. Seishi is obviously a well-loved kitty. Assertive kitties like Eushu make sure they get the love they need, but less-assertive kitties like Seishi tend to hang back, so they need a little TLC.
I’m trying some subtle behavior modification for my two guys for that very reason. Smokey (very much like Eushu) is assertive, curious, into everything, and he both demands attention and will push Goober out of Goober’s food bowl. I messed up on that last one when I first was introducing Smokey to Goober, and sent the wrong message, over Goober’s protest, which I misunderstood. Goober was saying, “But he’s being a brat, taking my food, that’s mean!” I thought he might wallop Smokey, so I overdid keeping Goober back and talking to him. Goober evidently thought I meant he could *never* scold Smokey, who was a kitten then, while Goober was an adult. Poor Goober has always let Smokey have his way until very recently.
Somehow, through extra attention to Goober and repeated separating them (dang it took forever) to get the message across to Mr. Nosey there, plus occasional food they both don’t want to leave, it has helped. I was worried for a while that Goober was *too* thin, with Smokey hogging it all. I think we finally, finally reached the point that Goober had had enough of that, and that Smokey’s better nature kicked in. They seem to be doing better about food lately, for which I’m grateful. But I’m not yet fully convinced.
Add to this that Smokey is a compact little guy, from being stunted as a street kitten. He grew into a fine cat once he got here, but that early deprivation left its mark. Plus, he was probably more “cobby” body type anyway. So he’s a very tough little furball, compact, solid…and will have to watch it or he’ll be a butterball when he reaches middle age. Meanwhile, Goober is of the long and lean body type by nature, and has natural appetite control, whereas Smokey eats anything in sight.
So, still finding my way around this. — Oh, I had tried three bowls in the same room. Smokey ate from all three bowls, Goober only ate from his own. Once in a while, he’d switch, if he absolutely had to and the bowl was untouched. I tried separate rooms, but Smokey would want to find Goober (and the food) and horn in. If I closed the door, both the shut-in cat and the shut-out cat got too worried about the door and ignored their food or got panicky and might upchuck it. Poor guys.
Now, the basic thing is, both these guys are really sweethearts and do get along, despite fussing at each other now and then. They care about each other. They’re not quite bosom buddies, but they want the other guy there in the house, or often the same room. The only real issue is dealing with food and the radical imbalance in assertiveness between them. I did give a little thought to balance via a third cat, but I feel like two is the best fit for us.
Anyway, that’s where we are at present. — Just so you know you’re not alone in managing feline personality foibles. Smokey’s an alpha, sometimes a brat, but not quite a bully like some. Goober’s at least a beta if not an omega, too gentlemanly for his own dang good. I’m just glad they’re both good-hearted enough that we don’t have severe problems. They seem to be moving into a new stage. Goober is now nearing 6. Smokey is now just past 2.5, so they should settle a little more.
Very best wishes for Seishi, and I hope Eushu keeps his cool.
My experience with 3 cats is that one cat ends up being one cat’s cat, and you can turn out to have 1 cat, because the other two are off together. But sometimes a third cat breaks up a two-way politics problem. Depends on gender and personality, just like with people. Two is not necessarily an infelicitous number with kittehs—since each has felicitous nine lives, it creates a more precarious felicity, able to be divided by two…or not, if they include you in the constellation. 😉
Thank you, this is good to know. It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to integrate more than two into a household. — Had had hopes with my grandmother’s two cats, but neither would accept mine at the time. (One passed away over a year before she did. The other refused to be around, and I asked her neighbor to care for him. If I’d been able to get him, I would’ve needed to find an owner who’d take a bully for a one-cat-only home.)
One hopes that Sei’s problems get sorted quickly! Neither of your kittyboys need to be sick!
They’re both real happy with the distribution of tuna. Sei’s skipping about with all his old energy. Poor baby, he was starving. Hopefully the dental work on Monday will help the gum condition; but I’ll go on feeding tuna as long as it takes his mouth to recover.
Whew! I wonder if Sei may be having a hairball problem. Sometimes that happens with mine. Even the short-haired ones can have hairball problems. They tend to get off their feed until they refund it. Sometimes a little molasses helps move things along. You usually have to smear it on their paw to get them to take it. My white long-haired cat has no problem with hairballs — when he gets one, as he does frequently, he just ralphs it up on the rug, no problem! The white one (AKA Emperor Pu An Yu) will be 13 years old tomorrow. As the other two are rescues, and he’s from a friend’s cat’s litter, he’s the only one I know the actual birth date for. The other two have “best guess birthdays.”
Another thing that seems to ‘help things along’ is, of all things, pumpkin, either raw or canned, although if the kitteh has a sore mouth, the canned is probably easier on them. Our former old lady cat, Snow, got stuffed up for a couple of days. I was going to take her to the vet until a friend suggested the canned pumpkin. Amazingly, she immediately ate the tablespoon I put down for her, and a few hours later, all was back to normal 😉 A surprising number of cats will happily eat pumpkin.
Pu An Yu. Love it! Hairball is a possibility, but the way the boys groom each other I’d almost expect him to have Shu’s shed (negligable) and Shu to have his (projectile shedding).
We will take a look at that, too. 😉 THanks!
Very, very glad to hear Shu’s FeLeuk test was negative. May I ask if he was tested for FIV, the feline equivalent of HIV? That can cause problems, too. Both conditions can sometimes be managed. I had cats with these issues, and both lived to be about 13 years old. Also ask about feline stomatitis, aka lymphocytic plasmacytic syndrome (LPGS). It’s an immune-related thing, in which the cat’s immune system attacks his gums and teeth. My Rocky had this condition, and he went through some nasty times until we got it under control. He lived to be 20 years old. I’m not trying to scare you, just FYI if a good dental cleaning doesn’t improve things for Shu.
Yes. Negative on both. [It’s Sei that’s got the problem re teeth.] But he’s doing fine since we started treating his mouth more nicely—and he does have quite a tartar buildup. So the toothcleaning is due. I don’t know what he was eating where he was, but hopefully we can keep him from needing this too often: he’s only 2 years old.
I just ran a mission to the local Humane Society. This morning we discovered 3 six week old kittens scrunched up behind some furniture in the library’s carport. Our tech managed to grab the tabby (but the other two ran off), and One of Three just got dropped off at the Humane Society. I have good hopes he will be adopted soon; the universal reaction at the HS was “awwww!”
It’s so sad when people let their pets go unaltered…here’s hoping the little tyke grabs some heartstrings real soon.
Glad to hear Sei’s tests are negative. My mother’s cat lived to be 20 and developed dental problems; my mother fed her baby food, or junior food, until she could get to the vet. Although, for your guys, with Shu no doubt demanding a share, that could get expensive!
The white one’s actual name is Gobi (like the desert) Gobotiputtitatti, but he has had a series of aliases during his checkered career, Emperor Pu An Yu being only one (when he ruled the living room from my printer’s shipping box). Others included “Glockenspiel” (with a parody poem and apologies to Sir Walter Scott — 10 points if you can name the poem!), Cadwallader P. Tailflourisher, and the rather embarassing “Mr. Poopdangles” (no points for guessing the song parody). From time to time, he also reprises his role as the lion in the famous Kabuki play “Kattamijishi” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzv0FEODj6w&feature=related) — singing his own accompaniment.
You should run a cat-naming service: I think you’ve gotten them to tell you their secret names. 🙂
My heart sank when I read the first line of your post…..and doing a happy dance that the problem is easily solved, although I’m betting that Sei may have some opinions about the ‘easy’ part!
Feline leukemia is a terrible disease. Many, many years ago we lost four cats to FL….the one survivor lived to 20 even with thyroid problems. (This was long before any reliable thyroid medications.)
The healthiest cats I ever had was the pride of Siamese cats. They were all related and adored each other. Like lions they were usually in a heap together. Most of them lived 18-22 years. Their job was to keep small animals out of the garden, which they excelled at. The dogs took care of the deer.
Now we have three rescued kettehs. Well Friendly adopted us. KikiLaSois was adopted from a shelter after being picked up at a dumpster. A year later I brought Aloysius home form the parking lot where I worked. He had been living by a restaurant dumpster. Thus The Dumpter Duo. The dynamic between the three of them is always interesting. Kiki and Aloysius fell in love immediately. Gradually Friendly decided it was okay to curl up with Kiki and occasionally with Aloysius. Today they are totally ignoring each other.
When we got Winter (half corgi and half?) last March she was quite shy. The cats would curl up with her and lick her. They will still curl up with her…but they also play roughly. I’m not sure that Winter understands that she is a dog.
What I don’t understand is how poeple can dump perfectly wonderful animals….it makes me crazy.
Local campgrounds no longer allow dogs Labor Day Weekend. Too many summer people were leaving dogs behind.
What a betrayal. The cowards.
Oh, I tell you, Smartcat, my heart sank, too, when we got other than 100% lab reports: it’s a case of knowing too much about medicine, and knowing what *could* be wrong, but so far, so good, and since tuna arrived, I have a very happy kitteh. Two very happy kittehs. Monday—not so much, when he goes in for the dental work; and of course I know every anaesthesia horror story, and am always relieved when any kitten has been through it for the first time and come out ok. This is not the first go-round for Seishi: he had it when he was neutered, so he’ll be fine. My biggest problem is that Shu reacts to pungent smells. He went totally bonkers and climbed the walls, literally, nearly destroying a window shade, when Jane came near him wearing a Bengay patch. He went ballistic on the vet when she came near, probably with disinfectant on her hands, when he’d already been growling and upset at just being inside the clinic. Scared Seishi out of all reason. So I don’t know what we’re going to do when Shu needs a tooth-cleaning.
Brushing a cat’s teeth. Mmmmm, that sounds to me to be “Mortal Kombat”.
Very happy to hear further good news for Seishi. Thanks, too, for the pumpkin recommendation. I’ll file that away, could be handy sometime. Also, to WOL, those are great names.
Here’s hoping Shu handles things well when Sei gets back Monday.