First of all, I am so glad that I decided to get my first cat: Pippa. She’s a sweetheart and a joy. I’m infinitely happy that I got my second cat: Guy Noir. Guy Noir is a 5 month old black kitten with a penchant for mischief and a purr as loud as a motorcar. Unfortunately, the sweet ball of black fuzz that’s taken over part of my heart may have FIP: Feline Infectious Peritonitis. We’ll be finding out for sure (more or less) tomorrow when we take him back to the vet. The poor thing has a swollen and distended abdomen and belly but is quite boney up top. He seems to have less energy and sleeps more.
You can find out more about the horrible FIP here: http://www.vet.cornell.edu/fhc/brochures/fip.html. I found this website to be the most informative and helpful website. I am by no means trying to diagnose my poor kitty myself though. We took Guy Noir to the vet yesterday where the vet (at Carrboro Plaza Animal Clinic with Dr. Anne Gavin, the best vet I’ve had yet) told us the possibilities for Guy’s symptoms. A) he could have a parasite (i.e. worms). To be safe they went ahead and gave him a dewormer. B) he could have a liver problem that’s causing fluid build-up in his abdomen. C) he could have FIP. The plan of action tomorrow for when he goes back to the vet is that they will take x-rays to see what’s going on inside and take a fluid sample that they can send off for testing. Unfortunately, there is no definitive test for FIP. FIP is essentially fatal in most cases, but cats that contract it can live 2 to 3 years. Depending on what lil’ guy’s got, we’ll see what happens. However, through this experience I have now learned that FIP is about the worst acronym you can drop to a cat-owner. When I emailed the foster mom I adopted Guy from to let her know what was going on, she sent me back a sympathetic email: “I truly hope it isn’t FIP!!!”
Because I’m feeling on the pessimistic side at the moment, I’ve already had a couple bouts of crying into Ben’s chest while Guy mewls plaintively at my feet. Unfortunately, I feel like the meows aren’t so much “Mommy, pick me up!” as they were “Mommy, I hurt….” My heart breaks every time. I’m also trying to resign myself to the possibility that Guy may need to be euthanized. Such a sweet kitty! Ben has been reassuring me by reminding me that at least we gave him a wonderful, happy home for a while.
I’ll keep my fingers crossed that it’s something less serious that Guy can push through. In the meantime, we’re loving him up, and Pippa is constantly bathing and snuggling with him. At least the circle of love in my house isn’t broken by a few tears from my sentimental heart!