It's a Wonderpurr Life: Jesse the Toothless Wonder

Gidget followed me into the cat apartment closet where I placed her dish containing a smidgen of Fancy Feast pate and a handful of Iams senior kibble on the rug, then closed the doors to prevent others from stealing her food. Over the past year Gidget has decided she’s not a fan of canned food – any canned food – so I mix her kibbles in with the pate to get something into her.

Next, I invite Peaches to join KC, Candy, and Frank in the kitchen where they dine atop a pink child’s table with the legs removed. However, she dives under the bed, leaving me no choice but to serve the Queen her cuisine where she hides, suspicious of my motives.

Meanwhile ChauncieMarie and Opie dine on top of the bed, happily lapping the Purina Pro Plan Hydra Care liquid supplement that I poured over their yucky prescription noms for kidney disease, mainly to get them to eat it. I hover, waiting for Peaches to finish. Naturally she slows her bites to the point of raising my blood pressure. Chevy and Nikolas are waiting for their dinner delivery, but I can’t leave, because the moment I do my French girl will immediately join Peaches and eat food she shouldn’t have. At nearly nineteen ChauncieMarie’s nose can still ferret out the food she can’t have and has a pattern of checking out Gidget’s closet to see if the door is adjacent, as well as any other bowl that smells better than hers. She moves amazingly fast for an old broad.

ChauncieMarie has had CKD for the past two years. This year Opie was also diagnosed with CKD. Telling my old ginger boy that he can no longer eat from everyone else’s plates has been an uphill battle, so I finally had to ban him from the kitchen. This is the main cause for Peaches being suspicious, because Opie has been her dining partner and best friend for nearly sixteen years. If he can’t leave the cat apartment, well… she won’t either.

I get down on my knees several times to check the Queen’s progress, receiving a glare each time I do. No one shoots a glare like my torbi. I finally risk it to run into the kitchen to grab the remaining dinners and deliver them to Chevy and Nikolas with apologies for being late. Bless them both, they hunker down over their dishes without complaint. At least at first. I will return in a bit to find if the flavor of pate agreed with them. Nik has become picky over the past year and sometimes will leave his meal untouched. Chevy is a bit more happy-go-lucky and will eat just about anything. I deliberately give them something different in case they want to switch plates.

Recently ChauncieMarie turned diabetic, throwing an even bigger monkey wrench into my life with the Wonderpurr Gang. In all honesty I've watched this train coming at me for years. The train being that I knew when I adopted a group of stray cats all within a short time of each other, all pretty close to the same age, one day they would become seniors with varying medical issues. Well, now the train is about to run me over. I'm okay caring for them financially, but the heartbreak is going to be enormous. I'm certain every one of you reading this can relate.

Twice a week since October 18^th I’ve run ChauncieMarie across town to have her glucose checked to determine the right amount of insulin for her. I went through this with my tabby Buddy who passed at age 24 after being diabetic for ten years. Unheard of, but I don’t mess around when it comes to my fur babies. He traveled everywhere with me so I could give him his insulin twice a day. I would even leave parties to drive back home to give him his insulin at the same time. So, while I’m deeply sad about ChauncieMarie going through this, I’m devoted to give her the same dedication. God forbid anyone else becomes a diabetic – looking at you, Miss Candy Applebottom who needs to drop a few pounds. She tells me she’s not fat, she’s fluffy, but I digress.

Then on top of ChauncieMarie’s latest medical revelation, I now face even darker news. When we returned from our Alaskan cruise, I noticed that Jesse’s left eye looked a little weird. At first, I thought it might be the light. He’s not one to look me full in the face, rather he dips his head and looks away, especially when I aim a camera at him. So, getting proof that something was wrong took time. Finally, I got the photo. His left eye looked orange and the pupil was strange. I ran him to our veterinarian on the same day I took ChauncieMarie in to be diagnosed with diabetes. Doctor Feelgood tested his eye for scratches but as there were none, she determined it was internal. We chose to take Jesse to the University of Florida Small Animal Hospital in Gainesville where we had taken Buddy way back when we first adopted him as a two-year-old stray. He had an odd voice, and his breathing was noisy. Turns out he had a polyp growing in his nasal passage. With that a success story, we were confident that they could help Jesse.

Gainesville is two hours away via winding back roads. Jesse went with us to Ashville, North Carolina last October, so I knew he would travel well. And he did. At the hospital they gave him a once over to determine that he may have a tumor in his eye. Best news – it’s just in his eye and can be removed along with the eye. Worse case – it’s lymphoma and has attached to his eye, which means its elsewhere in his body. And, as if that was not upsetting enough, they told us Jesse tested positive for FIV.

Jesse is fourteen years old. He is the son of Queen Peaches and was born (along with his now deceased brother Jack) under my neighbor’s deck on March 30, 2009. Never once had any vet told me he’s FIV+. That Chevy is FIV+ didn’t surprise me because when he first turned up, invited by his pal Nik to join the Garage Band, he was a friendly but feisty kind of guy. However, he sensed that Jesse and Nik were his only hope of getting a home, so he always got along well with them. No fighting at all. So, I’m not sure how Jesse, who has always been an introvert, never a fighter, got the virus.

We return on the 17^th for Jesse to go through a full day diagnosis with both the ophthalmology and oncology departments involved. If you feel moved to say a prayer for Jesse the Toothless Wonder, we would sincerely appreciate it.

Ironic how November is not only National Senior Pet Month but also Pet Diabetes Month.

Sadly, Dori, the President of the Ber Month Fan Club, is off sulking in her window hammock because her plans to celebrate Everything Autumn have been derailed due to time restraints that have kept me from performing my job as her muse and secretary. There's always next year, I've told her. I've even suggested she can celebrate Autumn all year long, which she may or may not do. You know how cats can't make up their minds..

I'm blessed to have cat loving friends who appreciate the trials and tribulations that go hand-in-hand with rescue. Upon hearing of Jesse and ChauncieMarie on Instagram and Facebook they've reached out to me with advice and reading material. I sincerely appreciate you all. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Kim

Until Next Time...

Frens, dis be me, Jesse da Toofless Wonder. Nice to meet ya'll. Ah doan get much oppurrtoonitty to get off da kitchen counter an' socialize, but Ah had a rough mornin' an' so Ah'm takin' control of today's blog post.

It all started when ma Mama dragged me out of ma loft condo ‘n stuck me in a Bad Box. Bad Boxes only come out for visits to Doktor Feelgood. Affer a long drive in da car... Yup. That’s where Ah ended up.

While waitin’ ma Mama attacked ma claws with special clippurrs. Lemme tell ya, Frens, when you don’t have teef you gotta grow some pawerful murder mittens to protect yerself from ex-street thugs like Frank ‘n pretty lil scary grrrls like Dori (although she’s simmered down a lot and Ah’m not bothered about her no more.)

At home Ah’m verra determined not to give up even a small piece of ma claws - Ah eben put a formidable bitey on Mama once but she laughed ‘n said it tickled; so cruel to hear when Ah wuz being ferocious. Anyway, ma Mama be a sneaky Yankee grrrl ‘n quickly robbed me blind of ma claws while Ah was on da table tryin’ hard not to cry.