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Feline Anal Glands – Crude but Natural

23 Jun

Excuse the ‘expression’ but felines have anal glands and sometimes they need to be expressed. I’ve laboured long and hard over this post since a) it’s embarrassing and b) well, it’s embarrassing!

Last weekend Mama was changing the sheets on my bed. I *love* this ritual. I can hop between the fresh cotton and ride the billowing waves of the sheets. I roll onto my back then scoot my chin along the Egyptian thread count. Egyptians knew how to worship a cat didn’t they?

Because she’s a tyrant, Mama kept pushing me off the bed. Little does she know my stamina exceeds her temper so I just kept jumping back on to surf my sheets. Then she said ‘Copernicus, what the hell is that?’. I turned around and saw a spray of brown, standing out proudly against the white sheet. ‘Well Mama, that’s my pheromone!’. As if she didn’t know? When she pushed my behind to get me off the bed again, more squirted out. She was infuriated because she had to wash the sheets again. I have no idea why since I was only marking my territory, albeit without intention.

You see felines (and the inferior canine) have two anal glands on either side of their poop shoot. More technical info can be found on the Cat Site but the gist of it is this: when a cat poops, the process automatically expresses the glands to leave a sweet smelling message to any passers by that indicates ‘Hey, this is my property. Get thee away!’. Skunks do the same thing when they get a fright. Sometimes however a cat’s glands get a bit too full and can express during periods of excitement or an angry Mama’s push. Don’t be alarmed. It’s natural. Unless there’s a physiological problem, at which time the dreaded vet may need to be involved.

My feline friends, the simple fact is this. Humans don’t have anal glands therefore they cannot understand their importance. It’s a normal part of being a cat. If you’re experiencing any discomfort or unusual behaviour then by all means ask your caretaker to drive you to the vet to have them expressed, but if you’re feeling fine? Then insist your bed is donned with a darker shade of sheet!

How to make a cat more affectionate? Feliway.

13 May

Ok so I meowed too soon. It seems the mystical witches brew that is contained within a humble bottle of Feliway has weaved its magic after all. In an earlier post I described the anxiety-fuelled aggression that would overcome me some evenings, resulting in a most unpleasant shunning. It’s been a couple of months since Mama plugged in Copernicus’ Little Helper and the sweet pheromones pervaded the air. I’m calmer, have significantly reduced the unnecessary application of my fangs and even enjoy a dash of affection now and then. You could even try picking me up for a cuddle without the risk of too much blood-shed. Well not you, since I don’t know who you are but, you know after a few leg rubs… maybe.

The point is Feliway has helped me. I’m not a pill-pushing puss nor has Feliway provided me with free samples (although I wouldn’t say no), but if you’re finding yourself in a bit of a tizz, angry without reason or not entirely loving feline life, then give Feliway a whirl. And if you don’t like it, I’ll happily sniff your leftovers.

The tools of my trade

15 Apr

These are my tootses. Very important. Or impawtant if you like. They get me where I need to be and sometimes that ends up being Trouble Town. Humans are notorious for discrediting their assets. Too big, too small, too hairy, not hairy enough. But cats know when they’re onto a good thing. Take my tootses. They’re the perfect size for running, licking, pawing, scratching, digging and face swatting a human too lazy to get up to serve your breakfast.

I have heard of a procedure called ‘declawing‘ where a kitty’s claws and toes are surgically removed to prevent him from inappropriate scratching. Please don’t do this. Thankfully it’s illegal in Australia, New Zealand, England and other countries. I can’t imagine the physical pain associated with losing your toes but I suspect the emotional loss would be sorrowful. Many cats suffer from litter box problems as a result because it just hurts to cover your business.

When we scratch it feels good. We stretch the muscles in our toes and it releases frustration as well as pheromones. A good scratching post and deep reserves of patience should put an end to this barbaric procedure.

Besides, who doesn’t love a good stretch and back scratch?

Feliway: cat prozac or propaganda?

18 Mar

There are some evenings where the stress of the day catches up with me. Birdies tormenting me with wings flapping at the window, mousie being especially disobedient, biscuit bowl empty. You know, a regular bad day at the home office. So when Mama comes home all excited to see me and sweeps me up for a squeeze, I can’t help myself. I wrap my paws around hers and bite. Hard. It’s like a smouldering pot of fury just got the heat turned up. It’s misdirected, I’m not really angry at her, but she’s the only one there when the pot spills over.

It’s happened a couple of times now. Mama feels hurt and tells me to stay away. It ruins a perfectly good evening.

For generations my ancestors have made it quite clear that British Shorthairs prefer all four paws on the ground. Unlike, say, a Ragdoll who’s whiskers are perpetually in the clouds. How can my own parents, who reserved a place in their home for me before my birth, not know this?

Still, I know it isn’t polite to behave this way.

While at the vet last month for my annual checkup, I overhead Mama & Papa discussing this issue with the Doctor. She referred them to Feliway – a diffuser that is supposed to mimic our happy feline pheromones. You know the ones we rub on corners, chair legs, an outstretched hand. This is supposed to calm frayed feline nerves. So Mama bought 2 refills off Amazon and a cheap Mortein mossie diffuser instead of the Feliway one.

Verdict? It smells nice but that’s about it. The French who make it say it can take up to a month to notice the benefits. Who are they kidding? They should stick to perfume.

How to walk a cat

22 Feb

I’ve just returned from my invigorating sunset stroll. Much like humans enjoy, except Mama insists on dressing me in a ridiculous harness contraption. By restricting my adventure zone she claims this will prevent the following unfortunate fates should I abscond:

a) being stolen by another British Shorthair enthusiast who in addition to lacking morals, serves poor quality food;

b) facing a violent altercation with another feline, resulting in torn ears and decimated pride; and

c) prematurely waking up in the cathouse in the sky after playing tag with a 2 tonne vehicle on big wheels.

I couldn’t find a more committed pessimist if I tried. Still, I am choosy when it comes to the evening meal, or the morning one for that matter, so I acquiesce.

If you too insist on harnessing your feline while tip toeing through the catnip, may I suggest the following.

For the first-time feline stroller, leave the door to inside open in case we need to make a hasty exit from the frightening thing that is nature.

To the outdoorsy Mama (or Papa) grass may appear to be a harmless ground cover. But beware! Strange creatures lurk beneath so if your feline employs the same hesitation walking across the lawn as one might a minefield, be patient.

Remember that your feline companion is not a canine. Instead of panting stupidly at your heels, looking up to you for approval and the next move, we like to take our time. Smell the roses if you wish. Don’t yank on that harness, just let us be!

Take it slow. We can spend months exploring the one backyard. Even then that might be enough.

UTI a pain in the B.U.T.T

15 Feb

This time last week I was in all sorts. For some reason I had to wee wee ALL THE TIME but nothing much would happen. I kept going to my litter box hoping this time – it’ll happen this time. But then I got this burning sensation that was yowwee! Mama couldn’t understand why I was so agitated, until she took me for a stroll in the backyard where I squatted three times, pointed at my tail and meowed ‘See? There ain’t nothin a comin’ out Mama!’.

Finally she zipped me into The Copernicus Carrier and took me to the emergency petspital.

I was so nervous I nearly wet my fur… except obviously I couldn’t. Luckily we didn’t have to wait very long. I did however have to share the waiting room with a pathetic looking canine who most likely hurt himself by tripping over his own tongue.

Dr Fiona was very sweet and it was blaringly obvious she had a crush on me. Her chin scratching was definitely well practised, and amazingly she could speak Cattish. All the while lulling me into a false sense of security until she asked Mama to hold me on my back so she could inspect my yowwee! How undignified.

I was forced to stay overnight, but I didn’t mind anything much after Dr Fiona gave me something magical that took away the sting and let the butterflies fly around the room. Zzzzzzzzz…

It turns out I had an irritated bladder, or cystitis. Very common in boy kitties (especially indoor ones) as our plumbing is so intricate. There are different causes, but here are my tips for avoiding it:

  1. Drink as much water as you can, from any clean source. Make sure Mama/Papa washes and refills your water bowl daily. I love splashing around the water from the bathroom tap. My buddy Woody here has the right idea. 
  2. If Mama/Papa is serving you dry food, make sure it’s good quality like Organix Feline Formula that doesn’t contain any corn or other fillers we can’t digest. And only for breakfast!
  3. For dinner, ask Mama/Papa to serve you a good quality wet food and alternate with chunks of raw chicken, beef or lamb. Great for cleaning the molars! (I went to the vet for a yowee checkup on the weekend and the nurse said I had the most beautiful white teeth she’d ever seen! Can you believe it? Of course you can.)
  4. If you notice any tingling or discomfort down there, tell your Mama! She’ll probably notice your futile fussing in the litter tray and general irritation, but if not, you’ll need to be more obvious. Yowl around her feet, get aggressive, wee on the floor/sink/bed, try and trip her over as she walks across the room and be generally annoying.
  5. The trip to the petspital was around $400 including spending the night and the various drugs. Which reminds me – those little pink pills Mama is pushing down my throat these days taste worse than the sweat of canines. Well, perhaps not. Nothing tastes that vile.
  6. Take this seriously. Boy kitties who develop a urinary blockage can find themselves in the big cathouse in the sky in under 36 hours.
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