A Common Cat-Astrophy!

I had a behaviour consultation the other day for a couple who had two beautiful Birman cats; a three year old male called Pierre and a two year old female called Mischa. The problem was with Pierre who had recently started urinating inside the house, anywhere except his litter tray and usually on the leather furniture. Pierre’s owners were at their wits end with having to clean up after their once house-proud cat.

After we sat down and had a chat it came to light that several things had occurred in the recent past which may have contributed to Pierre’s abnormal (and inconvenient) behaviour; Pierre’s owners moved house several months ago; Pierre had recently reacted anxiously (and very vocally) to the presence of a cat in the front yard, and; Pierre’s owners had bought some new items of furniture and placed them close to where Pierre’s litter tray was located. Another thing worth mentioning was that both cats shared the one litter tray.

So why would these events cause a cat to stop using his litter tray I hear you ask? It all has to do with territoriality. Cats are territorial creatures, some breeds more than others, and they tend to get stressed and anxious when they perceive their territory is under threat. Moving house, for example, can be very traumatic for some cats because they lose their territory and must gain a new one moving from one house to the next.

A neighbour’s cat encroaching on their territory can also be percieved as a threat, as can the addition of new items of furniture to the house. Cats are creatures of habit and even small changes within their environment (such as the addition of new items of furniture) can stress them out. In Pierre’s case, new leather chairs with a strong “new furniture” scent placed next to his litter tray was too much to bear.

Pierre’s owners were advised to provide each cat in the household with their own litter tray (located in a quiet and private area), food bowl and toys to minimise competition for resources within the territory and; that they should be aware that any changes within the cats’ environment can cause stress and anxiety and should be done gradually.

Preparing to say goodbye

Mrs R had tears in her eyes today as she picked up Molly’s medication, probably for the last time. Molly is old now, and aside from a long-term illness she’s struggling to cope with bad arthritis and other age-related changes. She’s blind, deaf and sometimes gets confused. The family has agreed that her quality of life is decreasing and it will soon be time to say goodbye.

We love Molly at the clinic. We’ve been looking after her for years and she’s the perfect patient – friendly, well-behaved and tolerant. She’s had literally hundreds of blood tests, yet never resists the clippers or needle. She’s spent whole days in our treatment room, wagging her tail at everyone who walks past and snoozing in between tests. When we’re done she hops back in her cage without complaint, and she loves to lean in close and enjoy a pat while the vet does whatever they need to. Even without her sight and hearing, she still trusts us. I can’t really imagine Molly not being around, and I know when she makes her last visit to the clinic that we’ll be crying along with her family.

Having said that, everything I love about Molly is just one part of her life. She has been a member of the R family for over a decade, since their kids were small, and has given them all constant love and loyalty. They have fed her, walked her, and picked up after her thousands of times. They’ve swept bags and bags full of her cream coloured fur from their floors and furniture. They’ve got to know all her funny habits and idiosyncracies, and they’ve loved her all the more as she has slowed down and stopped being able to hear them call. As Mrs R said today, Molly is not just part of the furniture or a really great pet; she is “so much a part of us”. There will be great grief at saying goodbye, and life will be forever changed.

Rudyard Kipling, in his heart-wrenching poem ‘The Power of the Dog’, cautions against giving our hearts to our pets, because inevitably we suffer the awful pain of losing them. It’s clearly a poem born of agonising experience, and the advice is sound enough, if avoiding pain is your goal. But when I think of all the Mollys I know, and the people who love them, I can only conclude that it’s worth it. Our pets give us years of unconditional love, companionship and joy. Who would be without that?

Starting out on the right 'paw'

I often feel sorry for people visiting the vet hospital with their new puppy for the first time. Their lives – and households – have already been turned upside-down by the arrival of a yelping, pooing, wriggly being which bears little resemblance to the tidily groomed and endearingly posed puppies we buy on calendars and greeting cards. They’ve been woken throughout the night, cleaned up more puddles than they ever imagined, and have more than likely already said farewell to some belongings or plants. They gather up the puppy (no small challenge in itself), collar, lead, scattered wits and kids and make their way to the vet hospital, where a barrage of information and advice awaits.

We vet nurses lurk behind the counter, pre-armed with samples of food, pamphlets and handouts, waiting to pounce on the exhausted owner as they make their way through the door.
“What are you feeding Roxy?”
“Have you heard about our puppy parties?”
“How’s Max’s toilet training going?”
Puppy owners, I would not blame you if you turned and ran. Fortunately, most don’t run. Puppy packs in hand, they’re ushered into the consult room, where the vet stands ready to discuss nutrition, worming, fleas, grooming, socialisation, training, microchipping, vaccinations and desexing – and that’s just the basics.

It’s an overwhelming experience for the puppy, too: the waiting room is jam-packed with exciting smells, other animals, new people, bags of food and all kinds of enticements. Naturally, they want to explore (or hide under a chair), but instead they have to sit nicely on the scales, refrain from jumping on the clinic cat and submit to a physical examination which doesn’t allow much room for dignity. We try our best, through cuddles, gentleness and treats, to make it a positive experience for the pup – we don’t want to be the ‘bad guys’!

So why does everyone – puppy owner, puppy, vet nurse, vet – make the effort? I guess it’s because, all going well, that squirmy little bundle of fun is going to delight and disrupt its family for the next 10 to 15 years, and we all want those years to go as well as possible. We want the puppy to grow safely to adulthood. We want her to learn good manners and basic obedience, so she’s a pleasure to live with and handle. We want to ensure he doesn’t suffer due to preventable illnesses. We want her to have a long and truly happy life.

Virtually all of the puppy owners I meet want to do the best for their new friend. Helping them start out on the best ‘paw’ is one of the real joys of my job, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.