“Sitting in the closet with my transgender cat” is not how normal people answer the question “What are you doing?” Even if your cat spends over 24 hours in the “safe/I feel icky” spot in the closet because her meds make her feel lethargic. You just want her to feel better so she can come out of the closet.
However that’s where I spent a lot of time recently since Birdie can only present urinary issues on the weekends preferably after our own vet has closed.
I returned from a day of Christmas crap, looking forward to a leftover enchilada and a fresh avocado. Instead I got a cat who ran to the bathroom about a dozen times in a half hour, frantically dug through every box and peed a dime size drop before running away and then running back to do it all again.
I sometimes think that Birdie misses the emergency vet. The long drive, the unfamiliar environment and smells, the horse sized dogs in the waiting area, and the crazy vets who pulled night shift.
After hanging in the waiting area for an hour and half, watching bad Christmas movies and the horse-dog hug people, we finally got into an official room!
We’ve done this before. Birdie has presented the same symptoms -again only on the weekends- and we’ve heard all the cats and stress urinary issues speeches.
All. Of. Them.
Including the “this usually only happens to boys” speech. Edging on to the three hour mark, I heard the vet coming because he was WHISTLING AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE and continued to do so when he hit the room, proclaiming, “Hi! I just woke up!”
His opening salvo was, “What your problem is, you’ve got a male cat trapped in a female cat’s body! So I’m gonna give ya the boy cat exit speech.”
Then he proceeded to talk at top speed about boy cats and cat pee. He rattled off a list of possible things we could do for or to Birdie, including sticking a something in her to biopsy the inside of her bladder. I tried to interject that sticking things in her was not an option tonight, but he was off again on what a pistol she was when he tried to ultrasound her bladder. “Didn’t get to see much there!” I did not tell him about the Jorge’s name tag episode.
Most of his rant focused on his theory that her issue was stress and inflammation related not pee crystal or infection related. Then he told a story a story about a male cat who made pee snot in his bladder. My eyes may have glazed over. I didn’t get to eat that enchilada after all. Finally he paused long enough to ask what I wanted out of all this.
“I want to get her comfortably through the weekend until we can see our regular vet.”
Okey dokey, since that was it, he’d give me the simple boy cat exit paperwork; should only take him 10 minutes.
As soon as he left, I texted my friend who works with a Gay Straight Alliance group because Brain had taken a strange train of thought, possibly to escape the medical verbal onslaught.
Ohhhhhhh, Grammie gets it! She’s too hip for her own good.
On the way out, one of the nurses complimented me on how patient I was being. I thought she meant patient with the starting to look like four, enchilada-free hour visit, but she meant with Birdie’s issues.
Seriously? What kind of shitty people are out there with pets? Don’t answer. Sadly I know. And I know that the nurse was being nice.
I just want my fur kids to be safe, comfortable, and healthy. I’ll medicate her so her kitty urethra feels better and try to de-stress her life as much as I can. (Step one is removing the catnip from my yard according to our regular vet. It invites all the riff raff.) Birdie can’t help it, just embraces it, cause , Baby, she was born this way.
“Just put your paws up ’cause you were born this way, baby”