Tricia Cinco(GA) & Harvey
Member Since 2011
We had four cats in 2010 - two Siberians, Minka & Kisa, and two Abyssinians, Harvey & Sasha. We were unaware, when we acquired Harvey, that Abys typically don't like other cats. Still in blissful ignorance, we brought Sasha home, hoping she would be a companion for Harvey, as Kisa was for Minka. It didn't work out that way. Harvey intimidated everyone except Sasha. Kisa avoided him at all costs. Minka just ignored him, until the day he started attacking her. Then she was very wary of him and would give him a wide berth. If something upset him, he would take it out on her and she would be so scared she'd lose control of her bladder. It took a couple of years and a lot of patience, but we managed to arrive at some kind of detente among them. There was no way we could add another cat to this dynamic.
I had noticed this orangish tabby in the neighborhood for some time - saw him wandering around every now and then. That fall, I started seeing him in my yard more and more. I was finding creamy fur on my doormat every day, but I didn't make the connection at first. After a few days, I realized he wasn't leaving our yard at all, which meant no one was taking care of him! One day I put out some dry food and clean water and he inhaled both. So I began feeding him, and as the weather turned cold and wet we set up a shelter for him in our back yard. I'll never forget looking out my window one wet windy day and seeing him, huddled on top of the fence, back against the neighbor's house, trying to get some shelter from the eaves. I couldn't invite him into the house, because of Harvey. My plan was to get him to trust me enough that I could take him to the vet for check up and shots and then find him a forever home. My husband kept referring to him as “Number Five”, since we already had four cats. I told him that was not a good name, so he became “Cinco”. Things seemed to go well with him living in our back yard. We got a plastic doghouse and put blankets in it for shelter and warmth. I did discover he was having to compete with some raccoons for his food and water, but he always came running when I would go out in the back yard and call his name. He let me pet him, and I also began to brush him with a wire cat brush, something he really enjoyed. In June I noticed he was looking a little peaked, and I had already noted how much water he drank. He allowed me to pick him up a couple of times, so one day I put him in a carrier and took him to the vet. Initial checkup was fine - got all his shots and some lab work. They estimated his age, based on the few teeth he had, at 7-9. I mentioned the water consumption, so they did a urinalysis, too. He was very, very, calm and mellow, which should have been a red flag. That night they called to say the sugar in his urine was way high and wanted me to bring him back next day for more blood work. He didn't resist when I caught him and put him in the carrier again. Next day they called to say he was diabetic - his numbers were so high the meter couldn't register them! He wasn't mellow - he was lethargic and very, very sick. Next day we took him in to learn to give him insulin and bought a large cage for him, which we set up in the garage. His numbers stayed high and his condition worsened. He was hospitalized with DKA for several days, but when he came home he didn't seem much better. Soon he was so bad off he was peeing all over himself, didn't even get up to use the litter box. He got urine scald and lost the hair on his hind legs and lower abdomen. For the first few weeks the vet kept raising his units until he was at 3.5. After two weeks with no improvement she suggested we consider euthanizing him. We took him home that night, and he was so weak and pathetic that I cried for an hour. We gave him his shot, then went to bowling and discussed him on the drive. We finally agreed that we couldn't make him suffer any more. When we got home and went to check on him, he was standing up in his cage and meowing! We both agreed that he didn't want to die yet, so we kept going. A friend had told me about the FDMB and how the people here had saved her cat's life and even gotten him into remission, so I joined. Cinnamon sent me her meter, a little black sock full of rice, some test strips and lancets and told me about the spreadsheet and how to use it. I started reading all I could and posting. It took a while longer with lots of testing and patience and dose adjustments (the vet had him way too high), but we started seeing real improvement - first he started making it to the litter box most of the time, then all the time. His fur started growing back. I found out about diabetic neuropathy and got him some Zobaline. Then his back legs got stronger and he moved around more. Soon he had the run of the garage and we began trying to slowly introduce him to our indoor kitties. We put a screen door in the doorway from the garage to the laundry room, so he could see, hear and smell the other cats and they could do likewise with him – step one.
He was never interested in cat toys. I had given him a catnip mouse and he seemed unimpressed. Then, one day, I heard him “talking” a lot, so I went out and looked into the garage. He was playing with that mouse! I almost cried. My favorite times were in the evening when I closed the door from the laundry room into the house and open the door into the garage. I would sit down on the floor with my legs stretched out, and Cinco would come in and climb into my lap, curl up and go to sleep. All he really ever wanted was someone to love him. Found it!
We eventually started leaving the doors open,when I could monitor things, and allowed Cinco to venture into the house. He had one or two unpleasant encounters with Harvey, but Cinco was a very passive cat, so he didn't do much more than give an occasional hiss back when Harvey would try to bully him. Harvey soon decided to just ignore him, although he made it very clear who was in charge. Cinco seemed to accept that, so he moved into the house. His manners were impeccable. I was convinced he had once been an indoor cat because he knew exactly how to behave himself. He understood and responded to "no!" much better than my other cats, but he was so good I rarely had to say it. He would eat anything I gave him - no doubt a product of his time as an abandoned stray. He never put a claw in the furniture, but I did catch him scratching on the carpet. I got him a flat scratch mat, and for the rest of his life, that's where he scratched - never bothered the carpet again. The only issue we had, and I think this is what made him an outdoor cat - is that he had this unnerving sound he would make. He didn't meow, but did this sort of a howl at seemingly random times.
He could increase it in volume until I'm sure the neighbors thought someone was being murdered. He would usually stop when I would come and talk to him soothingly. Later, he would use it to announce when he had gone poo in the box.
My favorite thing about Cinco was that he was so darned polite. When it was feeding time, the other cats would gather in the kitchen, under my feet while I prepared the food. Cinco would come and sit in the doorway to the dining room and wait patiently until everyone else had their plate. Then I would give him his. He never tried to enter the fray, never tried to get anyone else's food.
In September of 2011 thanks to the amazing people at FDMB, Cinco went OTJ. We were thrilled. At first I tested weekly, then monthly, and then I got lazy and complacent and didn't test for a while. I also got careless about dry food, and he regularly got into the pantry and helped himself to some. In October of 2012 I noticed the telltale signs of increased urination and increased thirst and dug out the meter. 379? How could I have been so stupid??? After a few more tests, I took him back to the vet, who required convincing but eventually gave me a new prescription for Lantus and we began the sugar dance again. All dry food was secured and he was never allowed another bite. We had a few attempts at OTJ trials again, but despite the correct diet and no contraband, he always ended up back on the juice. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. He had his first ever (as far as I know) dental in December of 2013,and had a cyst removed at the same time. We were hopeful that his major tooth issues (he had one broken off at the root and had to have four others pulled) were the cause of his inability to go back to remission, but he continued to need insulin. As 2014 progressed, we started to notice that his eyesight seemed to be getting worse. I mentioned it to his vet a couple of times, but she didn't see anything wrong and like an idiot I didn't push the issue. By the end of the year he was bumping into things and it was obvious he had almost no vision. I finally got a referral to an Ophthalmologist in January of 2015 and we found that Cinco had glaucoma and was in fact totally blind. Test revealed that he was infected with the Bartonella virus, and the Ophthalmologist told me that this was most likely the reason we couldn't get him back into remission. We embarked on a routine of multiple eye drops to try to control the pressure in his eyes, and Antibiotics for the Bartonella. The Bartonella was routed, but the glaucoma remained out of control. In February the ophthalmologist found a mass behind Cinco's right eye. It was removed, along with the eye, and biopsies revealed Ocular Lymphoma. We took Cinco to the University of California at Davis Veterinary Teaching Hospital to see an oncologist. After much discussion, we decided that, since it seemed that all of the mass was removed successfully and there was no sign of cancer elsewhere, we would not pursue chemo or radiation, but would bring him in every three months for a check up. We were just getting his numbers under control again and didn't want mess with that. With the eye and mass gone and the Bartonella whipped, Cinco became a different cat - more energetic, even a little playful. And more vocal.
In September of 2014, after fighting off several infections and fluctuating pressure in his left eye, we opted to have it removed,too. It was very clear that Cinco felt better after that, and his BGs reflected it. In January of 2015 I got the opportunity to have Cinco examined by Dr. Richard Nelson, a noted endocrinologist at UCDVMTH. He said that Cinco looked great and I should keep doing exactly what I had been doing in managing his FD. Cinco continued to do well, with the exception of occasional hot spots, usually resulting from his overcleaning areas that had been shaved for ultrasounds or bloodwork. He spent some time in e-collars and coveralls to combat this issue.
E-collars were a special kind of torture for a blind cat, as he couldn't tell where he was by his usual method of bumping his head into things. That's when I discovered the CoverMe.
Giving his shot was a little challenging, but it worked pretty well. I had to go to a smaller size after a few days, though, because my Houdini cat figured out how to get out of the size medium!
In August of 2015 we noticed a bump on his face, between his eye sockets. I took him to see the oncologists at UCD and test revealed a cancerous tumor. It was surgically removed and we followed up with 14 radiation therapy treatments. His subsequent check ups showed no recurrence until March of 2016 when he began having trouble breathing through his nose and we noticed a bloody discharge. Testing revealed a return of the lymphoma and he began chemotherapy on March 31st.
Cinco had always had a fabulous appetite. I never had to give him appetite stimulants or even nausea meds. His inappetance was the first sign that something was wrong with his nasal passages, along with the noisy breathing and discharge. Following his chemo treatments, he didn't want to eat and I had to give him Cypro and Ondansetron daily. He was dehydrated and I had to give him fluids, too. His breathing did improve and some days he ate okay, some days not.
When I took him in for his chemo on April 14th, he was not doing well. The oncologists agreed and did an ultrasound of his abdomen. They found that he had a bile duct obstruction and his liver, pancreas and gall bladder were all inflamed. They told me that the only way to see what was going on and to possibly correct it was to do surgery, and they did not feel he would survive the anesthesia. We made the decision to take Cinco home and bring him back in the next few days, if his condition worsened. The next day, Friday, he seemed better. He was eating well and moving around more. By evening, however, his breathing became more labored. He was still eating, but I had a feeling the end was near. In the morning it was very obvious that he was ready to go. I called UCD and made arrangements to take him in that afternoon. He rallied a little at the hospital, lifting his head and trying to sniff the air, which made it really hard for me to give the okay, but I knew it was time. He crossed peacefully in my arms.
Cinco was only with us for five and a half years, but in that time he taught us so much about cat health and nutrition, feline diabetes, cancer and life. He was always a sweet, gentle cat that seemed grateful for everything I did for him. He rarely resisted having his ears poked or having meds shot down his throat. If it had not been for Cinco, I would not have recognized the signs of FD in Harvey and gotten him started on treatment so quickly. I would not have found this wonderful community of incredibly caring, knowledgeable people. My other kitties benefitted hugely from the knowledge I gained in caring for Cinco, and Mark and I benefitted from having such a special kitty in our lives.
ETA: I almost forgot. Cinco taught me not to judge a cat by his color - I never cared much for orange cats. Although, you know, he was really more of a cream color....
He was never affectionate, didn't like being held. He did love his Zoom Groom, though, and would lay there and rub his cheek on the floor as I stroked his back with it until my fingers went numb.
He would get in the most adorable positions when he slept...
Cinco hated being in a carrier, and I worried he would hurt himself, he tried so hard to escape, so when I took him to the vet I put a litter box on the floor of the back seat and let him loose in the car. He kept trying to come up and crawl under my feet, so I tried various barriers to keep him back there, but even though he was blind he always found a way around them!
He was the only kitty that liked catnip, and when I would give him a sprig off my plant he would spend about five minutes rubbing on it and enjoying it. He didn't play, but he did like to rest his head on a nanner.
Cinco knew what he was doing when he picked this house. From the time I first let him into the house, he never tried to leave. He liked to sit at the screen when I had the slider open, sniffing the air and, before he went blind, watching the birds, but even if I opened it, he didn't try to go outside. He was where he wanted to be. Every time I took him to the vet or the catsitter, I always promised him that I would come back for him. I told him I would never abandon him. I also promised him that I would never let him suffer. That was the hardest promise I ever had to keep. Tomorrow he will come home one final time.
Fly free my sweet, gentle Cinco, and land softly in a place where you can see and smell and enjoy yourself with no cares. Your home will always be in my heart.
I had noticed this orangish tabby in the neighborhood for some time - saw him wandering around every now and then. That fall, I started seeing him in my yard more and more. I was finding creamy fur on my doormat every day, but I didn't make the connection at first. After a few days, I realized he wasn't leaving our yard at all, which meant no one was taking care of him! One day I put out some dry food and clean water and he inhaled both. So I began feeding him, and as the weather turned cold and wet we set up a shelter for him in our back yard. I'll never forget looking out my window one wet windy day and seeing him, huddled on top of the fence, back against the neighbor's house, trying to get some shelter from the eaves. I couldn't invite him into the house, because of Harvey. My plan was to get him to trust me enough that I could take him to the vet for check up and shots and then find him a forever home. My husband kept referring to him as “Number Five”, since we already had four cats. I told him that was not a good name, so he became “Cinco”. Things seemed to go well with him living in our back yard. We got a plastic doghouse and put blankets in it for shelter and warmth. I did discover he was having to compete with some raccoons for his food and water, but he always came running when I would go out in the back yard and call his name. He let me pet him, and I also began to brush him with a wire cat brush, something he really enjoyed. In June I noticed he was looking a little peaked, and I had already noted how much water he drank. He allowed me to pick him up a couple of times, so one day I put him in a carrier and took him to the vet. Initial checkup was fine - got all his shots and some lab work. They estimated his age, based on the few teeth he had, at 7-9. I mentioned the water consumption, so they did a urinalysis, too. He was very, very, calm and mellow, which should have been a red flag. That night they called to say the sugar in his urine was way high and wanted me to bring him back next day for more blood work. He didn't resist when I caught him and put him in the carrier again. Next day they called to say he was diabetic - his numbers were so high the meter couldn't register them! He wasn't mellow - he was lethargic and very, very sick. Next day we took him in to learn to give him insulin and bought a large cage for him, which we set up in the garage. His numbers stayed high and his condition worsened. He was hospitalized with DKA for several days, but when he came home he didn't seem much better. Soon he was so bad off he was peeing all over himself, didn't even get up to use the litter box. He got urine scald and lost the hair on his hind legs and lower abdomen. For the first few weeks the vet kept raising his units until he was at 3.5. After two weeks with no improvement she suggested we consider euthanizing him. We took him home that night, and he was so weak and pathetic that I cried for an hour. We gave him his shot, then went to bowling and discussed him on the drive. We finally agreed that we couldn't make him suffer any more. When we got home and went to check on him, he was standing up in his cage and meowing! We both agreed that he didn't want to die yet, so we kept going. A friend had told me about the FDMB and how the people here had saved her cat's life and even gotten him into remission, so I joined. Cinnamon sent me her meter, a little black sock full of rice, some test strips and lancets and told me about the spreadsheet and how to use it. I started reading all I could and posting. It took a while longer with lots of testing and patience and dose adjustments (the vet had him way too high), but we started seeing real improvement - first he started making it to the litter box most of the time, then all the time. His fur started growing back. I found out about diabetic neuropathy and got him some Zobaline. Then his back legs got stronger and he moved around more. Soon he had the run of the garage and we began trying to slowly introduce him to our indoor kitties. We put a screen door in the doorway from the garage to the laundry room, so he could see, hear and smell the other cats and they could do likewise with him – step one.
He was never interested in cat toys. I had given him a catnip mouse and he seemed unimpressed. Then, one day, I heard him “talking” a lot, so I went out and looked into the garage. He was playing with that mouse! I almost cried. My favorite times were in the evening when I closed the door from the laundry room into the house and open the door into the garage. I would sit down on the floor with my legs stretched out, and Cinco would come in and climb into my lap, curl up and go to sleep. All he really ever wanted was someone to love him. Found it!
We eventually started leaving the doors open,when I could monitor things, and allowed Cinco to venture into the house. He had one or two unpleasant encounters with Harvey, but Cinco was a very passive cat, so he didn't do much more than give an occasional hiss back when Harvey would try to bully him. Harvey soon decided to just ignore him, although he made it very clear who was in charge. Cinco seemed to accept that, so he moved into the house. His manners were impeccable. I was convinced he had once been an indoor cat because he knew exactly how to behave himself. He understood and responded to "no!" much better than my other cats, but he was so good I rarely had to say it. He would eat anything I gave him - no doubt a product of his time as an abandoned stray. He never put a claw in the furniture, but I did catch him scratching on the carpet. I got him a flat scratch mat, and for the rest of his life, that's where he scratched - never bothered the carpet again. The only issue we had, and I think this is what made him an outdoor cat - is that he had this unnerving sound he would make. He didn't meow, but did this sort of a howl at seemingly random times.
He could increase it in volume until I'm sure the neighbors thought someone was being murdered. He would usually stop when I would come and talk to him soothingly. Later, he would use it to announce when he had gone poo in the box.
My favorite thing about Cinco was that he was so darned polite. When it was feeding time, the other cats would gather in the kitchen, under my feet while I prepared the food. Cinco would come and sit in the doorway to the dining room and wait patiently until everyone else had their plate. Then I would give him his. He never tried to enter the fray, never tried to get anyone else's food.
In September of 2011 thanks to the amazing people at FDMB, Cinco went OTJ. We were thrilled. At first I tested weekly, then monthly, and then I got lazy and complacent and didn't test for a while. I also got careless about dry food, and he regularly got into the pantry and helped himself to some. In October of 2012 I noticed the telltale signs of increased urination and increased thirst and dug out the meter. 379? How could I have been so stupid??? After a few more tests, I took him back to the vet, who required convincing but eventually gave me a new prescription for Lantus and we began the sugar dance again. All dry food was secured and he was never allowed another bite. We had a few attempts at OTJ trials again, but despite the correct diet and no contraband, he always ended up back on the juice. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong. He had his first ever (as far as I know) dental in December of 2013,and had a cyst removed at the same time. We were hopeful that his major tooth issues (he had one broken off at the root and had to have four others pulled) were the cause of his inability to go back to remission, but he continued to need insulin. As 2014 progressed, we started to notice that his eyesight seemed to be getting worse. I mentioned it to his vet a couple of times, but she didn't see anything wrong and like an idiot I didn't push the issue. By the end of the year he was bumping into things and it was obvious he had almost no vision. I finally got a referral to an Ophthalmologist in January of 2015 and we found that Cinco had glaucoma and was in fact totally blind. Test revealed that he was infected with the Bartonella virus, and the Ophthalmologist told me that this was most likely the reason we couldn't get him back into remission. We embarked on a routine of multiple eye drops to try to control the pressure in his eyes, and Antibiotics for the Bartonella. The Bartonella was routed, but the glaucoma remained out of control. In February the ophthalmologist found a mass behind Cinco's right eye. It was removed, along with the eye, and biopsies revealed Ocular Lymphoma. We took Cinco to the University of California at Davis Veterinary Teaching Hospital to see an oncologist. After much discussion, we decided that, since it seemed that all of the mass was removed successfully and there was no sign of cancer elsewhere, we would not pursue chemo or radiation, but would bring him in every three months for a check up. We were just getting his numbers under control again and didn't want mess with that. With the eye and mass gone and the Bartonella whipped, Cinco became a different cat - more energetic, even a little playful. And more vocal.
In September of 2014, after fighting off several infections and fluctuating pressure in his left eye, we opted to have it removed,too. It was very clear that Cinco felt better after that, and his BGs reflected it. In January of 2015 I got the opportunity to have Cinco examined by Dr. Richard Nelson, a noted endocrinologist at UCDVMTH. He said that Cinco looked great and I should keep doing exactly what I had been doing in managing his FD. Cinco continued to do well, with the exception of occasional hot spots, usually resulting from his overcleaning areas that had been shaved for ultrasounds or bloodwork. He spent some time in e-collars and coveralls to combat this issue.
E-collars were a special kind of torture for a blind cat, as he couldn't tell where he was by his usual method of bumping his head into things. That's when I discovered the CoverMe.
Giving his shot was a little challenging, but it worked pretty well. I had to go to a smaller size after a few days, though, because my Houdini cat figured out how to get out of the size medium!
In August of 2015 we noticed a bump on his face, between his eye sockets. I took him to see the oncologists at UCD and test revealed a cancerous tumor. It was surgically removed and we followed up with 14 radiation therapy treatments. His subsequent check ups showed no recurrence until March of 2016 when he began having trouble breathing through his nose and we noticed a bloody discharge. Testing revealed a return of the lymphoma and he began chemotherapy on March 31st.
Cinco had always had a fabulous appetite. I never had to give him appetite stimulants or even nausea meds. His inappetance was the first sign that something was wrong with his nasal passages, along with the noisy breathing and discharge. Following his chemo treatments, he didn't want to eat and I had to give him Cypro and Ondansetron daily. He was dehydrated and I had to give him fluids, too. His breathing did improve and some days he ate okay, some days not.
When I took him in for his chemo on April 14th, he was not doing well. The oncologists agreed and did an ultrasound of his abdomen. They found that he had a bile duct obstruction and his liver, pancreas and gall bladder were all inflamed. They told me that the only way to see what was going on and to possibly correct it was to do surgery, and they did not feel he would survive the anesthesia. We made the decision to take Cinco home and bring him back in the next few days, if his condition worsened. The next day, Friday, he seemed better. He was eating well and moving around more. By evening, however, his breathing became more labored. He was still eating, but I had a feeling the end was near. In the morning it was very obvious that he was ready to go. I called UCD and made arrangements to take him in that afternoon. He rallied a little at the hospital, lifting his head and trying to sniff the air, which made it really hard for me to give the okay, but I knew it was time. He crossed peacefully in my arms.
Cinco was only with us for five and a half years, but in that time he taught us so much about cat health and nutrition, feline diabetes, cancer and life. He was always a sweet, gentle cat that seemed grateful for everything I did for him. He rarely resisted having his ears poked or having meds shot down his throat. If it had not been for Cinco, I would not have recognized the signs of FD in Harvey and gotten him started on treatment so quickly. I would not have found this wonderful community of incredibly caring, knowledgeable people. My other kitties benefitted hugely from the knowledge I gained in caring for Cinco, and Mark and I benefitted from having such a special kitty in our lives.
ETA: I almost forgot. Cinco taught me not to judge a cat by his color - I never cared much for orange cats. Although, you know, he was really more of a cream color....
He was never affectionate, didn't like being held. He did love his Zoom Groom, though, and would lay there and rub his cheek on the floor as I stroked his back with it until my fingers went numb.
He would get in the most adorable positions when he slept...
Cinco hated being in a carrier, and I worried he would hurt himself, he tried so hard to escape, so when I took him to the vet I put a litter box on the floor of the back seat and let him loose in the car. He kept trying to come up and crawl under my feet, so I tried various barriers to keep him back there, but even though he was blind he always found a way around them!
He was the only kitty that liked catnip, and when I would give him a sprig off my plant he would spend about five minutes rubbing on it and enjoying it. He didn't play, but he did like to rest his head on a nanner.
Cinco knew what he was doing when he picked this house. From the time I first let him into the house, he never tried to leave. He liked to sit at the screen when I had the slider open, sniffing the air and, before he went blind, watching the birds, but even if I opened it, he didn't try to go outside. He was where he wanted to be. Every time I took him to the vet or the catsitter, I always promised him that I would come back for him. I told him I would never abandon him. I also promised him that I would never let him suffer. That was the hardest promise I ever had to keep. Tomorrow he will come home one final time.
Fly free my sweet, gentle Cinco, and land softly in a place where you can see and smell and enjoy yourself with no cares. Your home will always be in my heart.
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