My cat's on valium and I'm crushing on my vet

Well THAT got your attention, didn't it?

It's been a rough week in the Lindsay house. First, as documented in my last blog post, there was "furnacegate 2012." What wussy 2 month old furnace can't cope with January in Saskatchewan? Seriously. Then I began to notice that Biloxi, the cat, was acting strangely. Like any cat, he prides himself on maintaining his lovely orange coat with regular grooming. His grooming; however, has deviated from the norm to a violent plucking of his fur, resulting in a very pronounced bald spot on his left leg. Yikes. Ev thought that perhaps it was "sympathy" plucking - you know, so he could share in Ev's despair with the inevitable male patterned baldness. I knew better. Like any educated woman in the 21st century, I immediately diagnosed my cat online. Looks like "Psychogenic Alopecia." Apparently cats will engage in excessive grooming when they are overly anxious or have lived through a traumatic event. Poor Biloxi, the cat, has lived through numerous traumatic events. Could it have been the 48 hours of quarantine at London Heathrow? The 4 day drive to Pensacola, Florida in a tiny kitty carrier? The arrival of the giant fuzzy-headed dog, Dundee? Nope. I believe it was a traumatic incident that occurred 2 weeks ago in his very own house.

Remain calm? Are you kidding me?

Biloxi's bathroom is located in a storage room in the basement. The storage room also houses the equipment for our home sound system and satellite TV. A repairman was in that room a few weeks ago working on the system and shut the door behind him on his way out. Poor Biloxi was locked out of his bathroom for almost 2 days! That would stress me out! My poor orange buddy finally peed right smack in the middle of our carpet, "Guys! seriously! Look! I have nowhere to pee!" I quickly determined the problem, apologized profusely to Biloxi, and swore that it would never happen again. It was too late. The damage was done. I managed to completely stress out my poor cat to the point of OCD-like behavior. Shit. Time to visit Dr. T. The most amazing vet in the universe. That's right. The universe.

Dr. T is the kindest, most compassionate man I have ever met. He's probably in his early 30's, soft spoken, extremely thorough, and I believe, loves my animals as much as I do. Many animal owners in Prince Albert rave about Dr. T. In fact, Dr. T sees 3 generations of cats in my family: Grandma's cat, Miss Kitty, and my mom's little white cat, Maggie. Dr. T compassionately helped my mom through the horrible experience of putting our wonderful family cat, Holly, down when she was suffering in her old age. Dr. T sees Nancy's dogs and is willing to make special trips out to the yard when one is ill. Dr. T is known to answer the phone in the wee hours of the morning and talk animal owners through difficult experiences. Dr. T rocks.

Initially when I met Dr. T, a giddiness overcame me and I mistook my feelings for "vet crush." As I've spent more time with Dr. T (Dundee, was that a cough? Let's go see Dr. T! haha), I wouldn't define my feelings for him as a typical "crush." It's more of a "I wish we could hold hands and watch "Free Willy" together" kind of feeling. He makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Biloxi, on the other hand, did not share my sentiments. Ears flattened to head, heart racing with fear, Biloxi yelped as the thermometer slid into his....well, you know. Looking up at me with black eyes, I imagined him saying, "Are you shitting me?" Dr. T thoroughly examined my buddy, letting me listen to Biloxi's heart murmur (he may have been born with it). For a split second, I imagined Dr. T wrapping his arms around me, helping me hold the stethoscope in a giant warm hug, as 'Unchained Melody' played in the background. It didn't happen. In fact, Dr. T informed me that he and "his wife" (right, yes) had a similiar problem with their cat and decided to prescribe a low dosage "kitty valium" to help the cat settle and terminate the OCD behavior. So that's what we've decided to do. Biloxi, the cat, after years and years of living an unsettled lifestyle, is now on kitty valium.

Kitty valium is soooo good.

I thanked Dr. T for his advice (shall we hug it out, Dr. T? ;) and took the little blue "happy" pills home for my buddy. I am pleased to report that Biloxi has already terminated the plucking behavior, yet does not appear "snowed," staggering drunkenly like that dude I saw on Central yesterday. It appears as though the little blue "happy" pill is leveling the cat out - stabilizing his mood. He's calm. He's happy. He's constantly purring. Hmmmm.....I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling a clump of blonde strands out and contemplated a phonecall to Dr. T.

1 for me. 1 for you. Life is good.

Update: Crochet done! Grandma is helping me put the blanket together as we speak! Janna's due date is Monday but she feels like the baby could be here any minute! Hurry Grandma!
I am hoping to get out with Nancy and her dogs for a run tomorrow. It's now warmed to a balmy -15 degrees - Hooray!