I have been around cats for my whole life. My Meemaw had TC and Miss Kitty, and later on we found Possum Head in a parking lot eating bugs. I named her. I think I was four. Then my Mom had Koo-Koo, and later on I got to take care of Julio and Fuzzy. When I was thirteen, “Santa” brought me my very own kitten for Christmas. I named him SoX and he was my baby. We were closely bonded, and I cared for him throughout middle and high school. When I went away to college, he stayed at home until I moved out of the dorms, and then he joined me. His life was unfortunately cut short at age thirteen when he succumbed to cancer.
Holding my cat while he died was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And now I’ve done it twice.
Two of my boys, Storm and Shadow, are urinary kitties. They have been officially diagnosed with Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disorder (FLUTD) and will take special medication and eat a prescription diet for life. I have learned a lot about this disorder and feel like I’m constantly on guard, watching to make sure they urinate appropriately.
Shadow in particular had a very horrible flare-up in which he strictured shut and had to have an operation called a “perineal urethrostomy,” or feline PU, for short. In that procedure, his surgeon removed his penis and rerouted his urethra, making the opening larger so he could urinate freely. Little buddy had, in effect, a kitty sex change. He then proceeded to suffer “every complication in the book.” I have chronicled my experiences as his caretaker, and I urge any of you who find this page by searching for PUs to comment and add your own stories.