Caution: Blood, pus, and grossness ahead. You have been warned.
So there may be a development on the Death Smell Cat (formerly known as Pepe, formerly known as The Kid) even sooner than I thought. I knew the recurring cyst on his shoulder had burst and was smelling rather... um... unpleasant. But last time it happened, it wasn't a big deal, really. The smell lasted a day or two, I kept an eye on it, the cyst healed, disappeared completely, and all was well.
It's been a year or two since that time, though. The cat has aged. Arthritis has set in for good, which makes one of his back legs turn inward when he walks or runs, though running is rare and usually instigated by another cat lording itself over him. He still eats well but doesn't like being touched while eating, even by the other cats. He's quite protective of his food bowl, which is in the corner by the wall so that he is jostled as little as possible. Grooming is something he rarely attempts any more, which means the job falls to me, which he hates... which is sad because he used to run toward the brush whenever he saw it and now he runs away. To be fair, I'm usually carrying scissors along with the brush, and I think it's scissor-phobia more than anything else, because he's a long-haired cat, and after I brush him, he chews on his fur, which mats it up, which drives him crazy, so he chews it more, which makes the mat bigger, and then I have to cut it out. Which he hates.
Anyway, when the cyst came back, I noticed it but really didn't worry too much even though it was noticeably bigger this time. I chalked the size up to his comparative lack of bulk, since he continues to lose weight even though he really doesn't have any more to lose. Last time I took him in, the vet wanted to do thyroid tests on him, but I declined. Even if it is a thyroid issue, which I doubt, I'm not about to shell out boucoup bucks each month for thyroid pills for a decrepit, late-teenaged cat. I may be a cat mama, but cats are not babies.......... she said as one of the other cats came wandering through the living room carrying a silver Christmas bracelet in its mouth. (The bracelet-carrying cat has already been in trouble this morning for repeatedly dropping a Lemon, Lime and Bitters bottle cap into my shoe and diving in claws-first to find it again. Two-year-olds are nothing but trouble, no matter what species.)
Gosh, I'm good at tangents today.
So the skinny, arthritic, cranky old man cat (or OMC as he occasionally gets called) had a giant cyst on his shoulder. Not a big deal to me until it burst. I thought I'd keep an eye on it, just like I did last time, and it would heal, like it did last time, and the smell and cyst would all go away and I wouldn't have to worry too much.
Stinky Death Cat is getting even stinkier. He was sitting behind the end table at 'my' end of the couch today, and I smelled him before I saw him. This is not good. I had to call the vet today anyway to get another cat, Dorian Gray, in for his distemper shot, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone and see if they had time for both kitty-fluffs. They did.
I see the vet at 2:15 this afternoon with both cats. I know he'll say that Dorian Gray is morbidly obese (because he is... and he's the laziest sod of a cat I've ever met... kind of like those people on the "I Weigh Half a Ton" TV shows who really don't care that they're so big), but I'm not entirely sure what he'll say about Pepe.
But I'm sure he'll comment on the smell.
Wish me luck!