Wet Cleanup on Aisle 5

Ring Around the Kitty

Cat has been a patient of ours for the last couple months.

He originally presented with 3/4 of his fur missing, and crusty scabs over his head, back, haunches, and tail. His previous vet had done a ringworm culture which came out positive, yet, curiously, had not treated for ringworm.

Despite the fact that the fungal culture we did came up negative, we started him on sulfur dips anyway, which are known to help in cases of ringworm and demodectic mange, either of which could have been the cause of his scabbiness. Allergies weren’t suspected, because his owner said he didn’t scratch himself much, if at all.

It was my job to give him the twice-weekly dips, and during the time we spent together, I came to be quite fond of the little guy. Cats aren’t exactly notorious for enjoying baths, especially baths in stinky sulfur, but he always behaved very sweetly despite our torturing him. And he always mewed politely whenever you walked by his kennel.

Over the weeks, his scabs began to fall off and his hair began to grow back. At his previous visit, we had been so excited to see him, because he truly looked like a new cat. He wasn’t completely healed, but his magnificence was clearly returning.

Yesterday he came in for his last bath, and during the time since the previous visit, Cat had suffered a small setback – he felt slightly more crusty than before. His owner told me he didn’t want to spend any more money on Cat, that Cat was 14 years old, and that he, the owner, already spent $1000 in treatment between the two vets, and maybe it would just be better to euthanize Cat. WHAT?!

I went home knowing that Cat would be gone in a few hours and there was nothing I could do about it. Dr. C hadn’t been able to convince the owner otherwise, and that was that. To top it off, the day had been a very busy one, and I didn’t get to spend any time with Cat at all, despite his sweet little mewings whenever I passed by. So his last day on Earth was one long “Sorry, Cat, I have to work…”

Grumble grumble grumble. It was a bad night.

The next day I poked my head into the hospital wing and there was Cat, mewing for breakfast. “Cat!” I practically screamed. “You’re alive!”

Turns out Dr. C couldn’t do it. He was a perfectly healthy cat except for the rapidly diminishing case of ringworm, or mange, or whatever it was. So she had the unenviable task of calling the owner and explaining why she hadn’t carried out his wishes. She and the owner agreed we’d keep Cat in the hospital and treat him, and if he looked better in a week, he could come home, and otherwise we’d carry out the owners wishes.

As a last-ditch effort, Kit got a Depo-Medrol injection, a steroid that suppresses immune response and that can be very helpful with allergies. He hadn’t had any before then because his immune system was clearly whacked out already, and the last thing he needed was more suppression. Other than the one injection, he didn’t receive any more medical care.

The one thing he did get was groomed, daily, by me. I took a fine toothed comb to what little hair he had, and tried to see whether his crustiness would flake off with a bit of grooming. Turns out the remainder of Cat’s “scabs” fell off immediately. And they weren’t so much scabs as flakes of skin mixed with sulfur dip goo that had accreted on his skin until it felt, and looked, scabby.

Within two days, he looked fantastic, despite his missing fur, which was slowly growing in. He went home a week later, into the tearful arms of his owner.

Yesterday we saw Cat again for the last time; his owner is moving back to Arizona. Cat looks like a little black lion – nothing at all like the naked, scabby little thing he’d been when we met him. His owner looked at me and said, “Thank you, I know you did a lot of taking care of him.” Now I’m the one who’s tearful.