I come to you today on location in Michigan, where I have spent every Memorial Day for the past several years. Although I understand the meaning of Memorial Day and respect our troops and all the veterans, to me this has become the road trip holiday - the one time each year I definitely get to see my best friend and her family. It's always an enjoyable weekend for both myself and my daughter, and we look forward to it every year.
Anyway, this year when we arrived, after the hugs and hellos, and once the kids dashed out the door to the trampoline, I noticed that there was something different about their cat, Salem. Something that seemed strangely familiar... As I watched him, it came to me - he suffered from the same disorder as one of my cats, Ace.
You see, a couple months ago I started noticing that Ace was losing his fur. Not all over, mind you, just on his belly and inner thighs. Almost a male pattern baldness type thing, only this was a cat, and it wasn’t on his head. Because this was something out of the norm, I also began overanalyzing his weight. Every time I looked at Ace, I started wondering if he was losing weight as well. He has always been on the slim side, although by no means scrawny. And I really think the only reason he does seem thin is because my other cat, his brother Baby, is way fat. In any sense, being the good “cat parent” I am, I decided that maybe I should bring him to the vet. So, I scheduled the appointment, and brought him in.
Now, anyone who knows anything about cats knows that they usually are not very good travelers. Ace is no exception. Once I loaded him into the cat carrier (which in itself is a project) and got him out to the car, I was privy to the sounds that only exorcists and cat owners ever hear. The noise a cat in a carrier who doesn’t want to be there is a noise that would give a 400 lb. linebacker chills. Think nails on a chalkboard times 100. An unearthly yowl that goes right to the core of your being. Anyone else would think the animal was dying, but of course I knew better (then again, considering we were going to the vet for some inexplicable disease, I really couldn’t be sure…).
When we arrived at the vet’s office, I checked in and sat down to wait. I could see Ace’s eyes glowing out at me from inside his plastic prison, and tried my best to calm him down. After a short wait, we went into the exam room and met with the vet. He and his assistant looked over Ace and weiged him (12 lbs. – so if he was losing weight, he was overweight to begin with) and then checked out the hair loss site. As I held my breath waiting to be told my cat had some fatal disease, I heard the vet say, “Ahhhhh.” Very “Oh-of-course-this-idiot-brought-her-cat-in-for-this?” – like. The assistant was smirking and nodding at him. And I was at a complete loss. “WHAT??” I finally blurted. “This cat has stress-induced alopecia.” The vet informed me. Alopecia?? The only reason I knew what alopecia was was because my daughter had alopecia as a baby (and has since been completely cured): it is basically hair loss. Duh! I knew that! Then the first half of his diagnosis hit me – “stress-induced.” I was at a loss. The vet started asking me if there had been any major life changes for Ace lately, if I got any new pets, if we had moved, if we changed his food… he continued on to say that cats were very much creatures who enjoyed routine, and complacency, and any variation from the norm could emotionally disturb them, thus causing them to acquire the nervous habit of excessive grooming and in essence licking the hair off certain areas of their bodies. As the vet and his assistant stood looking at me accusingly, I racked my brain for something that could possibly have stressed out my cat. After a while, all I could think of was the fact that maybe he thought the squirrels I started feeding were new pets and was jealous. The vet agreed. Solution? Reassure Ace, let him know he wasn’t being replaced. Give him more attention. And if he didn’t seem to be improving and growing some fur back in the next few months – valium. I kid you not. This crazy vet actually said he could put my cat on valium to ease his stress. YEAH, RIGHT. If anyone in my household is going on valium, it sure as hell won’t be my cat, I can tell you that much!! But then again, if cat valium and people valium are the same thing, maybe I can get it for Ace and just use it myself… (Imagine getting busted with an illegal prescription for valium – Officer: Um, ma’am, this bottle says the patient’s name is Ace. And the doctor is a DVM. Me: Meow?) Maybe not. In any case, I paid the stupid office visit fee and took my “stressed” cat home.
Which brings us back to Michigan. Salem had the exact same bald spots as Ace, and I caught him grooming several times. So I casually mentioned to my friend and her husband that it appeared their cat had stress-induced alopecia. Their basic answer was along the lines of “Yeah? No kidding. Well, that doesn’t surprise me. Salem has every right to be stressed.” (They had several other pets in and out of their home while Salem was around, and are now down to four cats, two black labs, a hamster and a parakeet) But when I mentioned valium – they laughed. And laughed. Apparently, like Ace, Salem will just have to deal with his stress on his own.
Stressed-out cats. Ok, Salem’s may be justified, but as far as I’m concerned, Ace is just a (pardon the pun) pussy. He lives in a condo, never goes outside, sleeps most of the day, is well fed… WHERE IS THE STRESS??? If, in fact, he is jealous of the squirrels on our balcony, tough. But I cannot believe the stupid feline is stressed over that. Then again, who knows?? But he’d better get over it. I’m not going to coddle a wimpy cat. Let’s see him work eight hours a day and take care of a kid as a single parent and pay the bills and live a HUMAN life. Now that’s stress. Moron.
Bottom line – if Ace gets a job, MAYBE I’ll get him valium. Otherwise, he’ll have to learn to deal. Like the rest of us in the family.
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