Wonderfully Awful: Kitty Poop Chronicles

If only!

If only!


a blogumn by Robin Rosenzweig

It started with a turd on my yoga mat.

My cat Olly had been known to occasionally poop outside of his litter box, so I cleaned it up, disinfected the mat and went on with my life.

Then he did it again. And again. And then I started noticing more and more “presents” all around my apartment. Not just ordinary kitty turds, either. More like…puddles. It was becoming abundantly and quite messily clear that Olly had diarrhea. And when a wave came on, there was no way in hell he was going to make it to his litter box.

I called the vet, but they weren’t able to see him for a couple days, so I continued to monitor the situation. Generally, he would just lay about the house. But then, he’d get up quickly and moan. Then he’d pop a squat on the floor, and with a pained expression on his kitty face, his butt would make a sound similar to a mostly empty ketchup bottle being squeezed…and out would come a little brown puddle. Finally, he’d go back to lying around. Rinse and repeat.

One time, I even saw him walk up to his litter box, look at it, and then walk a few more steps before squatting and pooping on the ground right next to the box.

When it was time for my vet appointment, I walked in, cat carrier in one hand, baggie filled with a fresh stool sample that I scraped up from my floor using a plastic spoon in the other. When they checked him out, he seemed relatively normal. But then they said the dreaded words: we’d like to express his anal glands. Now Olly has had this done before and he is clearly not a fan of having people poke around in his butt. They took him into another room while I sat in the original exam room, heartbroken, while listening to the terrible, loud, anguished screeching coming from my kitty several rooms away. When they brought him back in, the vet told me he was a bit backed up so they helped him out with that. We were then sent home with a general antibiotic.

When we got home, Olly started obsessively licking his butt. For lack of a better expression, it was as if he was giving himself the kitty version of a rape shower. His frantic licking seemed to scream out the violation he had experienced. Also, the diarrhea got worse and there were puddles everywhere for the rest of the day.

But then something magical happened. He stopped pooping. Entirely. For days.

100_1451_smallerThe upside to this: no diarrhea. On the downside, no poop. I was concerned, but keeping an eye on him. He had a positive demeanor and was eating and drinking. I just didn’t know where the food was going. But then on a glorious Sunday, it all came out. He hit the litter box every five minutes or so squeezing out the most wonderful, large, solid turds. Hallelujah!

EPILOGUE: Olly returned to normal while he finished his medication. And then my fiancé and I went out of town. Although we had someone checking in periodically, Olly was alone for the better part of four days. And when I got home, I found a whole bunch of dried up little landmines all over the apartment. He seems to be somewhat back to normal now, so it’s hard to say if he got sick again, or was furious with us for leaving him alone, or both. I am monitoring the situation, and kitty poop watch remains on brown alert.