Let's Wait and Pee

Scratch, scratch, scratch in the litter box. Meow, meow. A few droplets of pee. 

Maggie Lou repeated this routine throughout the day. By the next morning, I knew I had to call the vet.

As it turns out, she has something called "Feline Idiopathic Cystitis." It's caused by anxiety.

"Have there been any major changes in her routine?" the vet asked.

Nope.

"Is she the only cat in the house?"

Yes.

"Have you changed her diet?"

I gave her a little dry food the other day, but it's never been a problem before.

In fact, the only change I could think of is that we spent an hour or so moving boxes around in the closet. She freaked out a little at the time, but I hadn't thought too much about it.

The upshot was, our cat was suffering from anxiety that interfered with her potty routine. 

"What has she got to be anxious about?" queried Mr. Ginley. "She eats, she sits in the back window, ack acks at the birds, moves to the front window, sleeps there, kicks a toy around every once in awhile and sleeps some more. What's so stressful about that?" 

Pondering it further, he asked, of no one in particular, "Does this mean I shouldn't give her airplane rides anymore?"

Whatever it was that put our cat's anxiety into motion, the upshot is that she's on a new diet, painkillers and something to relax her ass. "Pill or liquid?" asked the vet. The last time I crushed a pill and put it in Maggie's food, she stopped eating. 

"Liquid it is," I replied.

So, I got to chase her down and stick a plastic syringe in Maggie's mouth. Let's just say I was not her favorite human.

The next step is to acquire a plug-in air freshener that dispenses kitty pheromones to calm her ass down. 

With any luck, it'll help calm me down, too.

After seeing the vet's bill, I sure could use it.