Both Magoo and Ashley have recently turned two years old. Born in a blaze of gory, their welcome to their world was hot,nasty and it is still unimaginable to me that they survived. Having to spend 48 days at the vets as their bodies sought to cleanse themselves (with help) of all the toxins they consumed at their first meal, just increases the unbelievability of their survival.
When they were finally returned to our care, I wondered if they would make it to their first birthday. Now, here we are at their second year of Life. They have changed their behavior this year. The shift occurred following this Fourth of July. The only time, I would see them way before dusk. Perhaps being in the Holiday Farm Fire is what attracts them to this holiday? I have no clue, but they show no fear, only fascination with the show that appears out my back bay windows.
I expected them to vanish the next morning and play their never-ending game in the daylight of hide-n-seek. Instead, when I finally got out of bed, both of them were curled up asleep on the dining room cat post. They have remained out since, except if visitors or workers arrive. Magoo is spending longer times on my lap. I have to endure his claws and frantic turning on my lap until he finally simmers down. His favorite spot is between my hips and the arm rest of my recliner. He does not stay long, but I’ve noticed that the more he seeks out his chosen spot, the longer he will stay. When I say longer, I am talking only minutes. He has yet to reach the point where he will sleep on me more than 20 minutes at a time. That’s when I noticed his erratic breathing.
Normal cats at rest will breathe 30 breaths per minute. After several unsuccessful tries, I finally clocked him at 42 breaths. Thinking I must have made an error, I clocked him again. This time, he was at 57! Instead of the breaths coming from the chest, Magoo was breathing from his belly. This is usually a warning sign of fluid in the lungs heart issues or a mass.
I got him into the vet that morning and he was given a full exam. They paced him at 65 breaths, but noted no distress, no open mouth breathing issues, panting or drooling. No signs of asthma or URI. They took films, his lungs appeared clear, no masses or anything out of the ordinary jumped out. I was quizzed; yes, he is eating, he is drinking, he is using the litter boxes. He was not showing any signs of distress and even tolerated being flipped upside down in the vet’s arms for a tummy palpitation. All good, he passed with flying colors.
Speaking of colors, he has grown into a gorgeous boy. His flames next to his white coat are very striking. I find it ironic that he is a flame-point considering how he came into this world. I mentioned my fear that both kittens could have toxins in their lungs from breathing all that crap falling out of the sky. The vet seemed to think that if this were true, they would have discovered it during their extended stay, or that they would both be showing signs of toxicity by now.
His erratic breathing has been diagnosed as an after-effect of PTSD. Unless he becomes an anxious breather in the future, struggling to get his breath, this is just going to be his normal way of breathing.So, he is back home, still destroying my office on a daily basis. Those piles of printer paper are in his eyes anyway, a mighty beast that needs to be destroyed. They take on a menacing nature especially when they fly through the printer! He must destroy the invaders! He is an Olympic Champion Paper Smacker! He shreds paper quicker than my paper shredder that lives under my desk and is another beast on his destruction list. He actively still keeps up with his sister as they race up and down my stairs. For all intents and purposes, he is a typical cat now with the exception of his erratic breathing.
