In the fall of 1998, our household had a mysterious "piddler" leaving
moist odiferous spots around the apartment. The last time this happened, a year or
so earlier, Imogen revealed herself as the perpetrator because she was sitting on
me and suddenly let loose. Poor baby. So this time, when the signs reappeared in her
favorite sunny spots, I watched her carefully, and sure enough, off we went to see
the vet. I was not very popular that day, especially since Imogen and the boys had
just had their annual wellness exams only a week or so before and all their tests
had come up fine.
Here's Dr. Mike McCammon with Imogen's x-ray of 10/29/98. If you look
carefully, you can see the cause of Imogen's problem even on the x-ray image in this
picture. (Yes, he's married -- to Dr. Pam, the other vet in the practice.)
This is June who works at the front desk of the Lockridge Animal Hospital
-- who claims pictures of her never look good. I think I proved her wrong with this
one. Like all the people who work there, she has been very kind to my furry friends
and taken good care of them.
I shot this close-up photo of the x-ray itself to show how awful it looked -- it
probably would have been clearer if I'd borrowed the x-ray and put it on a transparency
scanner, but you get the idea: it looked like a little starburst just floating around
in there. I didn't need a degree in veterinarian medicine to know it wasn't supposed
to be there!
After the operation, Dr. Mike said the stone looked like "something Superman
would have crashed to earth in." Medieval maces came to my mind. I brought in
a macro lens to take this picture, with the ruler and penny to give you an idea of
the actual size of this thing. I used this picture to break the ice at subsequent
Yule festivities where I knew few people: if I found out anyone had a cat (or more
than one!), I'd whip out the picture and say, "You gotta look at what the vet
took out of my cat!" And now this web page... Yes, it's strange, but I just
had to share:
After the stone was sent out to the lab in Minnesota (where apparently all bladder
stones end up for analysis -- I guess someone's cornered the market there!), it turned
out to be a combination stone. The center, or "nitus," was struvite, common
for bladder stones, and the outer coating was made of oxylates. Most bladder stones
are smooth and white, so this one was quite an eye-opener.
Imogen was rather embarrassed by the amount of shaving that was necessary, but when
her belly got furry again, she stopped begging to sit on my lap while I worked at
the computer. She's rebounded well and seems to be feeling much perkier than I had
noticed before, friskier and tending to some matted fur on her hindquarters that
I'll bet she just hadn't been able to get to comfortably before.
On the left is a Uro-Collect kit -- yes, with a syringe of Imogen's urine
in it. You put special nonabsorbent "litter" in a special liner, then syringe
it up. It's going into the lab because Imogen has occasional "relapses."
The stones may have resumed growing, or she may have another infection, so she goes
into in our special "kitty infirmary" during times like this until we can
figure out what to do. I sometimes suspect it is a behavioral thing half the time.
On the right is an artistic rendering of the patient recuperating, by one of my nieces
-- a melange of original drawing and collage. [Actual size: 8.5" x 11"]
Rest in Peace, my sweet Imogen. 1982-2002
This is my favorite picture of Imogen. I always thought that "one
of these days" I'd get around to photographing her spectacular double-paws,
but she was very particular about showing them. Sadly, the only time I got a really
good look at them was after she had died...