MSI Press Blog

  This is not the first time we have written about cat cancer in a Caturday post. We learn more about it over time, and it seems that more in general is learned about it over time.  Blind Cat rescued share the following interesting and information post about cat cancer:  Feline Carcinoma (blindcatrescue.blogspot.com) . Cat cancer not only occurs, but at least in our household has become common as our cats have aged. Among our cats, three have died of it, and two are living with it. The breed does not seem to matter; it appears that cancer is blind to breed. Intrepid was the first to be diagnosed with cancer and the first to die with it. In his cancer, it was small cell lymphoma. He lived only a few months after diagnosis. His vet missed the cancer -- that happens with people, too. After describing Intrepid's late night howling to a friend who works at the SPCA, he gave us the name of a vet with excellent diagnostic skills. She immediately intuited the problem, scoped Int...

how Happy Cat began sleeping post-stroke and our first big clue as to what had happened Diagnosing strange -- and altered --  cat behavior can be quite difficult, if not impossible. Our Happy Cat turned into Sad Cat overnight. We knew he was missing Snyezhka and Bobolink , who had suffered major medical trauma/issues and crossed the rainbow bridge. After perfect results from a physical check-up, the vet admitted that the picture of Happy Cat sleep was odd, but she had no idea as to why he would be doing that. He also walked unsteady, crossing his legs instead of walking with a straightforward gait. His sight dimmed; again, the vet confirmed that he was not seeing anything much but that physically his eyes looked okay. He walks around in a fog, quite unlike our blind cat Simone , who manages admirably. Perhaps if we lived closer to a major medical (animal) center, more diagnostic procedures would be available. But, like probably most Americans, we are too far away from such levels o...

Our Happy Cat is now Unhappy Cat. For 14 years, he was unflappable. He was the beta cat; he groomed the other cats, he introduced -- successfully and quickly -- new cats into our cat family, and he stepped in when alpha cat Murjan died, as mother and father to the brood. With people, he was laid back, a cool hippie cat who was friend to all, not overly affectionate, just always a friend to any human, but especially attached to Carl , sitting at his feet when he died. In a very short period of time, Happy Cat lost from his life Carl (from cancer ), Murjan (from cancer), Snyezhka (from a saddle thrombus), and Bobolink (from autoimmune hemolytic anemia and cardiac arrest). He would look out the door every day, looking for them. Then, her went blind.  He stopped grooming the other cats. He adopted CB, Carl's mini-me, as his buddy but otherwise did not care if there were other people around. He started eating a lot, like people who are depressed. And just sitting and lying and sleepin...

  Learning the Ropes: Kitten Moo following big brother Bear (peek inside) into the litter robot For years, we have had one litter robot per room -- at times four, at times five. They held great promise of reducing the workload. Just plop in a bag, let the robot do its work for a few days, then pull out the drawer, toss the old bag now full of used litter, and plop in a new bag. Every seven minutes after a cat used the robot, the drum would turn and whisk the litter into the drawer with bag. Initially, they did work pretty good, but they quickly broke down. Nearly every day one or another robot has to be cleaned and repaired -- the pincers are not touching, the plates are dirty, litter is in the gears, etc. Sometimes, turning the robot off and then on gets it back on track; other times pressing cycle, reset, or reset & cycle works. Sometimes, a slap works. Other times, though, it is a matter of disassembling and completely cleaning the robot, typically a 20-minute task that cann...

  Most people never live with a nineteen‑year‑old cat. I’ve lived with two. That alone is extraordinary. For a Himalayan, it borders on miraculous. But what astonishes me even more is how two cats could reach the same rare age and inhabit it as if they were living in different universes. Murjan: The Cat Who Filled the Room Murjan, my Turkish Van, was a force of nature from the moment he arrived. He didn’t walk through life — he announced himself through it. At nineteen, weighing less than five pounds after years of lymphoma and three and a half years of chemotherapy, he still: patrolled every room jumped on and off exam tables explored new vet offices like a tourist on holiday demanded his daily leash walk supervised every creature in the house communicated constantly, loudly, and with purpose He was alpha to the end — a cat who refused to surrender even as his body thinned to nothing. He left a footprint everywhere he went, and when he moved, he left a wake. Murjan didn’t age. He...