Scruff has severe asthma. He was on the streets for 10 months and even though Imp was nearly dead when he dragged himself in here, and even though Scruff's Mamma and sister are still outside and still okay....Scruff's asthma is worse than all the others.
Veterinary medicine, in the obscure hill towns of Italy, is not quite what it is in the US, or even in the larger cities of Italy. Vets are scarce, do not have staff, sometimes little equipment as well.
After a year or so of dealing with both Imp's and Scruff's asthma, it became apparent that the two cats needed different approaches. Imp, originally the sicker of the two, was on intermittent regimens of two medications (also used for humans). Imp also knew how to pace himself. When things get too crazy for him, he bows out. He goes to one of his favorite spots and rests, usually in a "propped up" position, which makes it easier for him to breathe.
Scruff, on the other hand, parties till he drops. Little bastard. I adore this cat. He has a teeny, tiny little Lynx-like face and fluffy, scruffy (hence, the name) fur that feels like a bunny. He was the first to come to me in the street, and yet, after almost 2 years inside, he still doesn't fully trust me.
(early photo after he was taken off the streets)
(a lynx kitten)
Eventually, I happened upon a "recipe" of medication that kept him on an even keel. Unfortunately, there has been drainage construction going on outside our back doors....and it is autumn...pollen, mold... and some rain. In spite of our best efforts, both Imp and Scruff have been having more difficulties.
Scruff has two medications plus an inhaler. We tried the way the internet said to do it and it didn't work. I bought a "spacer"...a simple little device that places the inhaler at one end of a tube, and a little soft plastic mask on the other, to deliver a puff of inhaler. It is meant for newborns and infants. And also cats....but, not this one.
So, today. Today!!! Today....I woke up to hear Scruff coughing. I decided then and there that his breakfast would be one of the "soups" we keep in reserve for these occasions...if he won't eat, he might just lick up some gravy.....and so I put his medicine in the "gravy" most part of the "soup" and hoped he would slurp it up. .................Nothing.
With no breakfast, he hid under our bed. We closed the bedroom door and hoped he would come around in a while. I tried his food again. Nothing. Then we went for the inhaler. All I want to do is get a puff or two close to him...enough so that he breathes SOMETHING into his lungs. Something. Anything.
By the afternoon, he came out of the bedroom (bathroom break) and I was Skyping with my daughter. Hiiiiiip!.....Hiiiiiip! What the hell is that sound? Hiiiiip! It was Scruff mouth breathing and wheezing....omigod!!!!!
Well, he felt awful enough to stay in one place and a couple of squirts of inhaler were wafted around him. He didn't move because, for pity's sake, he could not breathe!!!! He MUST have inhaled something somewhere along the way.
The circus clowns are accustomed to "snack" every afternoon, usually around 2 or 3. It was now 5pm and the troupe was getting restless. They had the zoomies. They were WILD!!! Suave, laid back Lupo came tearing into the living room and stopped abruptly at my feet. "Yes? What do you want?"....he looked at me wide eyed (not customary) for a couple of seconds and then tore off again in the opposite direction, out of the room. ZOOM!
I had to keep them all hungry, hoping that Scruff would eventually eat his "breakfast." With seven cats, it is impossible to feed just one and not the others. It is impossible to feed most and not one. Therefore, no one had "snack" today.
Apparently the "inhaler mist" had some effect and by 8:30pm he was breathing through his nose again and seemingly hungry, so I fed the troupe. They were more than ready!
Everyone rushed to their places, except Scruff, who stayed in the living room and ate in his private dining area. But he DID eat...only the gravy, as I suspected he would. I had added an additional dose of medication, unbeknownst to him. Slurp, slurp.
He's back to "normal" now....for the time being....miserable little creep who doesn't trust me after all this time...AGGHH! I love him. I saved him from the street, I fixed his goopy eyes when he was 3 months old....and he STILL does not trust me. I'm livid and so happy he feels better again, after an agonizing day of isolation and mouth-breathing and wheezing.
Now that he feels better the little clown is sashaying around wanting pets and kisses. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
