My husband and I have decided to spice things up a bit. You know how it goes after almost seven years of marriage, where every day feels the same? As empty nesters and second-time-arounders, Les and I are each pretty open about what we want and need in our relationship. So, after several months of back-and-forth on how to make things more exciting, we finally took a big, adventurous step.
We adopted a kitten! And boy is she sweet. Meet Nadia!
This was not a light decision. A 4-month-old kitty needs constant monitoring, extra playtime and frequent feedings. And then there are the midnight zoomies, constant crashes, jingly toys everywhere and the never-ending untangling of the window blind cords. Nadia has given us a physical and emotional workout, but she is undeniably adorable.
And then there’s Taz, our 12-year old fur baby— about equal to my husband’s age of 64— for whom this has been no cakewalk.
When our beloved dog, Nilla, went to the Rainbow Bridge back in March, Taz found herself the only pet in the house for the first time in her life. She has appreciated being the sole recipient of our attention when we are home, but anytime we take a trip longer than a couple of days, it’s clear to us that she is lonely. This sweet little fluff ball, we hoped, would change that.
A couple of weeks into the introduction process (slow and steady, in compliance with all the YouTube videos offered by “the Cat Daddy,” Jackson Galaxy), something seemed very “off” for Miss Taz, and this nervous mama booked a vet appointment. Taz got a full exam, a couple of chest X-rays and a round of blood work, but nobody could offer a solid reason for her coughing and gulping, or explain why she literally lost her meow and spent two days hiding under the bed. We came home with a bunch of papers and some pain meds (for what, I’m not sure) but by the next day, her symptoms had expanded to include a wet, rattly cough that might have been nothing or could have been devastating. Ugh.
Did we make a mistake getting a kitten? I was terrified that something serious was wrong with Taz and now— with the demands of a sass-butt little whippersnapper in the house— we would not be able to focus on taking care of our senior cat, whom I had promised would always be my baby. By that time, of course, it was the weekend. The blood work results from our Friday vet visit wouldn’t be in until Monday and I was a total wreck.
Thankfully, the emergency vet is only five minutes from our house, but that was the only easy part of this adventure. Six hours, two more X-rays, an unpleasant confrontation with the reception team, another round of blood work and— wait for it— a thousand dollars later, Taz was diagnosed with what amounts to a kitty cold. Respiratory infection of some sort, and the vet said it is common for a shelter kitten to bring this kind of thing into the home. Not that anyone is blaming the kitten; she did nothing wrong, and showed no symptoms herself.
Now, there’s a fair argument here that when Taz started sounding worse, she was actually feeling a little better. By the time the vet techs called for Taz, she was pissed. She hates the carrier crate, doesn’t like to be touched (or even spoken to) by strangers and didn’t appreciate the wait. They sedated her for the X-rays, for what little good it did because she still fought them like hell, as she did me and Les when we tried to coax her into the crate at home. She was described by both the tech and the doctor as “a very spicy kitty,” a big departure from the limp, near-lifeless cats they are used to seeing in their facility. All I could say was, “That’s my girl!” I was so grateful that her problem wasn’t more serious. An antibiotic injection and liquid steroid regimen was all she needed. It has been almost four weeks, and Taz is doing great.
With the crisis averted, we didn’t even mention this emergency visit to most of our friends here, because at that point, it had been handled and our fur baby was on the mend. Lo and behold, getting Taz feeling better has also led to more positive interactions between her and the new kitten— that is, except for the ongoing battle over who gets the top spot in the cat tree, which Taz had ignored until Nadia showed up. It’s all quite entertaining!
Nadia is the sweetest, most affectionate and loving kitten I’ve ever raised. A perfect complement to the spicy diva who sets the tone here.
All’s well that ends well, and this story is far from over. 🥰
Comfort du Jour 