Duchess

*sigh*

So Duchess has had a stinky bottom the last couple of days. This is not unusual. As the long-haired half of the Terrible Torties, she has been known to need "bum baths" because she gets stuff stuck in her fur.

So this afternoon, after petting her and noticing that even when my nose is several feet away from her I can smell an overwhelming smell of cat pee, I decided that a bum bath was in order.

I stuck her in the tub, yowling and wiggling. She peed. It was brownish-red.

I'm at a point in my cat-caring experience where I no longer freak out and burst into tears when a cat in my care is not 100% wonderful and healthy. I realize that cats, like people, get allergies, viruses, colds, etc. I understand that the true indication that something is very wrong is a change in personality and/or habits.

That said, I hate knowing that one of my sweet kids is not feeling 100%.

I called Marian of AFC, knowing she would give me good advice. She suggested calling my vet. They were closed for the day, so I called an emergency vet. I was reluctant to take her in tonight--it can get very expensive and it seemed dramatic to take her to the emergency vet for what is most likely a bladder infection or urinary tract infection.

I emailed Mom and Dad (the only way to get a hold of them--they are nowhere near cell phone range, and calling the ship directly via satellite would cost $8.95 per minute. Fortunately, with the time difference, my "early evening" is their "mid-morning," and they are at sea today (well, it's tomorrow for them. So confusing). Mom got my message and replied:

Meg, TAKE HER TO THE VET! We will pay you back. Thank you for taking such good care of her.

Love mom

So off to the vet we went.

She's still there, for a couple of hours. They need to do a urinalysis. The vet is pretty sure it's one of two things:

1. A bladder infection--not serious, just uncomfortable and, of course, she would need antibiotics.
2. Benign cystitis--again, not serious, and usually brought on by stress.

So the good news is that Duchess is fine--she just needs some antibiotics to get through this, and she will be back home with me tonight--exhausted and feeling the strain of the indignity of having a thermometer stuck in her you-know-where and people prodding at her "potty" all evening. I'll have to give her a bum bath when she gets home, because she smells really, really bad.

The thing about Duchess (nickname: Duckie) is that she is, quite possibly, the gentlest soul I've ever encountered in any human or animal. I once said to Mom, "She has...a gentle soul." Mom agreed without hesitating. Duchess is sweet and loving. She adores her people (Mom first, then a tie between Dad and me), her sister (and litter mate) Bella, and aside from the occasional growling at Mr. Low Man On The Totem Pole Harley, she is good-natured and quiet.

Leaving her at the vet, even knowing I'd be back soon to pick her up, made me feel like a rotten, slimy jerk. Obviously, it's what needs to be done, but I feel absolutely horrible for putting her through it. Still, we all want her to be her healthiest and happiest, and that means time with the vet tonight.

Even worse was coming home to Bella and telling her, "Your sister will be home in a little while." I know she doesn't understand, and she's sleeping peacefully in the living room right now, but I know, too, that she knows her sister isn't here--and they've never been apart. They were spayed at the same time and the vet techs put them in a cage together in recovery because they just wanted to cuddle.

Anyway, I'm anxiously waiting for the vet to call so I can go back and pick Duchess up. I helped raise the Terrible Torties, and I love them as much as I love Millie and Harley.