Ted is now 18-and-a-bit years old and has been diabetic since she was 12 or so. She is also very arthritic, completely toothless, somewhat deaf and quite blind. An old cat, but any description, who sleeps most of the day.

Ted looks to DH - they have a special bond. She pretty-much ignores everyone else, unless there is food in the offing. To everyone else she is the most cussed, cross-patched piece of bawling streetcat you ever did see. She grew up in a household of bachelors and learned to swear from them. Boy, did she learn good! She was very proud of having a "dangerous animal" tag on her file at the vet.

Two or three times each year Ted has us convinced that her end is near and we start to mentally prepare ourselves to do the Difficult Thing. Each time this happens, she waits an appropriate amount of time for the tension to build to an uncomfortable level, then makes a "miraculous" recovery. I think she's testing her considerable ability to manipulate us.

This last couple of weeks was no exception. Ted was acting nice. Really sweet - no cussin', no attempting to rip our bloody throats out; she even gave up her plans for world domination. We were suspicious and, once again, started to think the worst. You see, last time Ted was nice was just before she was diagnosed with diabetes and she was, in fact, very sick. Ted being nice made us think that she was very sick again. Last time we had her bloods worked up at the vet, he indicated that she had the beginnings of kidney failure, so we thought that this might now have become an issue. We watched her carefully; adjusted her insulin, monitored her litterbox habits and water uptake. We started to be sad and to prepare ourselves for the worst. Dave gave her lots of cuddles and special little treats (within her dietary regime). After all, she's over 18 and is unwell.

Dave pulled the short straw and, with a heavy heart, took her to the vet for a whole-day of blood monitoring (to get a range of glucose levels). We sat - him at home and me at work, for a whole day, being distracted and thinking about our furry matriarch.

It was with considerable tension that Dave re-appeared at the vet in the evening for a report on our Old Lady's status. He had prepared himself to make the Ultimate Decision if it was necessary to save Ted from pain.

It took an hour or two for what the vet had said to sink in. You see, Ted has done it again. She is in sparkling good health for a cat of her age and her kidney values (createnine etc) are better than they have been for years. Yep, our Ted is going to continue with her long-term plans for world domination and is determinedly going to hang around for quite a while yet. The vet found the problem - age has meant that she no longer responds to / metabolizes the insulin as efficiently as she used to, so we have halved her dosage and she has perked up (grumped up) to her former level.

Amazing Ted. Long may she live.

Copyright © Tish Silberbauer
January 21, 2005