A piece of my heart

So, in yesterday’s blog, I mentioned that I had to take Mr. Bob to the vet. Some of you have pinged me to ask how his visit went, so I just wanted to make a quick post to let you know everything is fine.

If you haven’t “met” Mr. Bob yet, let me introduce you.

He loves to perch on top of the ladder.

He’s my “loverboy,” my “snugglebug,” my “little boy.” Bob-o. Bob-aroni. Bob-aloo. Bob-olio. Señor Bob. Adora-Bob. Mr. Bob is a very large piece of my heart walking around in the world on four legs.

Late last week, Mr. Bob started to cough. A lot. And then he got a runny nose and gunky eyes. Nothing terrible, but still worrisome considering he’s 14 years old. So, I made an appointment with a new vet recommended by a friend. (My other vet wasn’t terrible, but I always felt like I was being scolded, and I don’t care for that.)

But he prefers to perch on top of Eric.

In the office, he was so cute. We let him out of the travel box, and the vet tech opened up a cupboard they let the cats use as a place to hide. It was so sweet. He was scared, which is such a rare thing to see. Mr. Bob is the ruler of the house. He’s never scared. He owes the place, and trusts us implicitly.

The vet checked his eyes and nose, and took samples to look at under the microscope. He listened to his heart and lungs, and said he sounded good. He even had me to re-do the math on how old he is, because he couldn’t believe Bob is 14.

We talked about the coughing, and I mentioned that Mr. Bob doesn’t vomit nearly as much since I started giving him Vaseline regularly, thinking it was hairballs. And then I showed him how Mr. Bob chews the fur off his belly. The vet got very interested at that, and started asking more questions about that.

[Trigger warning for grossness] The he took a look at Mr. Bob’s butt, and asked me to hold him tight. Then he squeezed a large amount of disgusting-ness out of his butt. Apparently his anal scent glands were impacted. According to the doctor, it’s a painful condition, and that’s likely why he’s been chewing his fur off. For two years. FOR TWO YEARS!

He loves his cat bed, and will sometimes even share it with Little Girl.

Here’s where I really start to get angry. I took Mr. Bob to the other vet for the fur-chewing thing two years ago. She had me trying new food, new litter, flea medicine (for an indoor-only cat!), and running all kinds of blood tests. She didn’t check his butt. My little loverboy has been in terrible pain for two years?!

As it turns out, the new food I wound up with because I though he was allergic to the old stuff is too high in protein (another thing the previous vet never told me about) and is likely causing him gastric reflux, which makes him cough.

But this is his most favorite spot: my lap.

So, he got some drops for his eyes, and some medicine for his tummy. And he got to come home. He was so happy to come home. Whenever he gets home from the vet, he always immediately runs to his food dish. Like he’s so happy he’s home, he needs to gorge on his crunchies.

And, since then, he’s been glued to me or Eric.