Hey you dunderhead cat,

These past 9 months or so, we have been working so hard at trying to get your blood sugar regulated and your neuropathy healed up. And now you’re doing great.

So, what did I find you doing last night?

Eating a shoelace.

What is that, some kind of Siamese thing? I knew a guy once whose beloved sealpoint ate an entire ball of twine, and the cat was lucky to survive the experience. Surgery, the whole bit. Not fun.

I also knew a Siamese who would cheerfully devour any soft plastic that came his way, such as drycleaner bags.

Kevin told me he found you eating string once before. He said he just stepped on the end of the string and picked you up… and you didn’t like that very much. But apparently the lesson wore off.

I’m very grateful I caught you when there was still shoestring yet to be eaten, so we didn’t have to make an emergency vet visit. You don’t even like the routine ones.

No more bonehead moves, OK, Tazzber?

Luv ya, sweet boy.

A long overdue Taz update.

Sometime last fall, when we took him in for glucose testing, his reading was too low for comfort (although he appeared to feel fine). At that point the vet cut his insulin in half, down to two units twice a day. This turned out to be a bad move, since Taz’s sugar went back up with a vengeance, and his diabetic neuropathy, which had been fairly mild, got a lot worse. He was walking flat on his heels in back, slipping on smooth surfaces, and even was showing signs of a little hock-walking on his front legs too. So we took his insulin back up, but had quite a time getting his sugar down again. It was pretty frustrating, especially since the vet had no suggestions whatsoever for improving the neuropathy—“It might get better, or it might not”, he said.

So I decided to do some research. It has been my experience with medical personnel of all kinds that they do not necessarily know about everything that might be helpful in a particular situation. Googling on “feline diabetic neuropathy” brought up Jasper’s story.  Jasper was a diabetic cat who had neuropathy so severe that he couldn’t walk, and he was greatly helped by supplemental methylcobalamin (a form of Vitamin B-12). The site references a study that was done on humans with diabetic neuropathy, but there were also a number of anecdotal reports about it being good for diabetic cats too. Since this site wasn’t selling anything, and the risk of toxicity seemed to be low, I decided to find some of this inexpensive supplement and give it a try.

B-12 is normally given by injection for better absorption, I think, but I got methylcobalamin in tablets, cherry-flavored tablets to be exact. I grind them up and mix them in with his food, and fortunately Taz doesn’t seem to mind the taste. Of course, this is the kitty boy who eats brandy-soaked fruitcake. I mean, “used to”. (Probably not on the “good list” for diabetics.)

I started giving him methylcobalamin right around New Year’s. At first there wasn’t much change except perhaps more energy, but in the past week especially I have been blown away by the improvement. Taz is pussyfooting around, back up on his toes in fine cat style! It is so wonderful to see. He keeps his footing on the linoleum just fine, and he has even stood up tall on his hind legs to paw at me while I was preparing his dinner.

So today, we went in for his first glucose check since the holidays, and it’s 98! Maybe we can actually get this boy regulated after all!

I’ve been calling Taz “Sweet Boy” since day one of our acquaintance. Hope that’s not bad diabetes karma.

The vet is pleased with Taz’s progress. At his appointment last week, his blood sugar was down to 300, one of its lowest readings so far. The vet says we can have him checked again in two weeks (a milestone, since it’s been at least weekly up till now), and maybe at that time we can declare him regulated.

I still worry every time I see him drinking water, but he’s certainly not in feline camel mode like before. He’s still having some trouble with his hind legs (diabetic neuropathy and arthritis), but I’ve read that the neuropathy can clear up after some weeks of good blood sugar regulation. I’d love to see him walking normally again, but I sure hope he wouldn’t try to jump up on the fridge like he used to; right now that’s the only safe place to leave non-DM kibble out for Suzie and Mickie.

Taz is still being a total pro about the whole thing, showing up cheerfully at feeding time, eating with gusto and completely failing to react to the shot. His glucose reading Friday afternoon was in the 280s, so the vet wants us to nudge the insulin up to 4.5 units twice a day. She said not to start on the weekend, though—wait till Monday in case of problems. Makes good sense.

Taz is one who gets in cuddly moods, and when he does, you find out by the large furry football that comes hurtling toward your chest. Last night he was in such a mood, but wisely decided not to try launching himself just yet. All he did was sit by me on the bed and give me the Big Blue Kitty Eyes. I’m no pet psychic, but I correctly interpreted that he wanted a cuddle, and picked him up. Purring ensued.

And tonight, a good sign, I think. Taz has always hated loud noises. On occasions when I have tried to practice violin or harmonica, he has sunk his teeth into my pants leg and ever...so...slowly tightened his grip until I stopped. He also hates it when Kevin and I conduct a conversation with me downstairs and Kevin upstairs. It’s not as bad as you might think—the acoustics in this house make it surprisingly easy—but it’s still too loud for Taz, who takes extreme offense and demonstrates said upon my person as previously noted. Tonight Kevin and I conferred briefly between floors, and Taz stood on his hind legs so he could put his huge claws on my thigh and get the noise stopped.

Taz, Suzie-Q and Mickie are home now, and tonight I flew solo on Taz’s diabetes care for the first time. Seems to have gone just fine. Now admittedly, the boy loves him some chow, but it’s still amazing to me that he doesn’t seem to even notice the tiny little needle stick while he’s face down in his supper. The needle is very small—nothing like the one we used to give our old girl Lyric subcutaneous saline infusions in her later years.

As previously blogged, Taz isn’t stabilized yet. His blood sugar has been up and down some (although the most recent reading at the vet in Chattanooga, taken Monday morning, was the best yet.) The vet there feels that some of it might be due to the stress of being away from home, and within sniffing distance of the Chattanooga feline crew, whom Taz has never encountered before. He certainly does seem more relaxed now that we’re home, so who knows.

What I am more worried about is his hind legs. The symptom that really alarmed me when I first realized he wasn’t well was that his hind legs seemed wobbly and weak. There is a syndrome seen in diabetic cats where they walk “flat-footed” due to nerve damage, but the vet says he doesn’t think that’s what’s going on here, because Taz’s diabetes was caught early. He suspects arthritis, and I sure hope he’s right, because some Cosequin (and weight loss) might help a lot then.

Of course, I had to go looking around on the Internet, and found all kinds of worse things it could be, too.  Taz will see our vet here in Georgia for the first time Thursday AM, and we’ll see what they think it is. All good thoughts and prayers are appreciated.

Taz is still having some ups and downs with his blood sugar, though the symptoms that led to our concerns early last week—just before we left on our trip—seem to have cleared up at last report. Still, once we get ourselves and him home there will need to be twice-daily insulin shots. Meowch.

Chris’ Mom says the blood sugar flux is similar to what her Fred went through before they finally got him stabilized. And if I remember correctly Fred has been getting by on the special food for diabetic cats, and hasn’t been needing insulin shots since.

I wonder what the statistics are on this condition—both Fred and Taz are neutered males of respectable size though I believe Taz is some years the elder.

Taz, a.k.a. “The Amazing Seismic Kitty,” has been diagnosed with diabetes, but the vet says it’s been caught in its early stages. He’ll be staying with Chris’ mom in Chattanooga during our trip because one of Marie’s cats—Fred, a.k.a. “Marvin the Martian”—is also diabetic so Marie has experience with stabilizing a diabetic cat.

I think our future cat food bills are going to be bigger than we’re used to…

Taz is weirding me out. A couple of times I have seen him grab Mickie by the scruff and, well, act like a tomcat.

Now, he was about a year old when we adopted him, and was still an intact male up to that point. I often wonder if there might be hissin’-and-spittin’ images of him still running around that neighborhood today.

But dang it, he’s been neutered for more than nine years now. And it isn’t as if he’s had any practice in the meantime.. the other (spayed) female cats who have shared his life during these years would not have reacted well, to say the least. (Two words: Taz confetti.)

Of course, our little Mickie has been initiating quite a bit of kitten-mischief-type physical contact, and she and Taz are official wrestle-and-slurp buddies. But we had her spayed a couple of months ago, before any signs of going into heat (she was five months old at the time), so I would have thought she would be spared the tomcat-and-queen scene.

Maybe I’m overreacting here… this is all probably quite normal… but eeeeeeewwww!

When we lived in Alaska, I had a rabbit fur hat (yeah, I felt guilty, but it was so soft and warm...) I had to keep it away from Taz or else he would bathe it within an inch of its life. Well, now Taz finally has his own fur cuddle toy.

You can’t see it too well, but note Taz’s spiffy new collar.