Feta Goes to Physical Therapy!

Even though Feta Cat is now some 6 months post-amputation, as noted in our previous entries, she has really been struggling with the use of her remaining hind leg.

However, physical therapy is a pretty fancy (expensive) treatment for a shelter cat, so we spent a lot of time trying to do what we could at home. Primarily, we tried to help her with stretches and with practicing the use of her leg.

Unfortunately, the vast, vast majority of online PT resources are dog-specific, which was our first challenge. Even more challenging were Feta’s own particular limitations. How far could we push “passive range of motion” on that stiff leg without hurting her? Were there additional underlying physical problems (such as nerve damage) that might be making it actually impossible for her to do some of the things we saw online? What movements would be the best for helping with her specific weaknesses?

When it ultimately became clear that Feta’s leg was getting worse, not better, I offered to sponsor her physical therapy myself. With the assistance of the fabulous Tripawds.com community and the amazing Maggie Moo Fund:

the shelter (Liberty Humane Society) set Feta up with an appointment at Westfield Veterinary Group, an amazing practice that had been extremely helpful with an earlier case of theirs, and the Maggie Moo fund covered the cost! Thank you, Tripawds Foundation and supporters!!!

So, off we went to the vet for our initial evaluation and personalized (cat-inalized?) physical therapy prescription.

The vet started by pinching Feta’s foot and toes, trying to gauge how much sensation she had in the foot. While she did not seem to have much reflex to pull the foot away from pinching, she did seem to be able to feel (and disapprove of) what the doctor was doing. This is a good sign!

“The only ‘good sign’ I’m looking for is the exit!”

Next, the doctor tested her range of motion, which was significantly less good. For whatever reason (and certainly compounded by months without use), the muscles in Feta’s back leg were extremely tight, leading to very little flexibility in the hock and, in particular, the hip and stifle joints (the one between the hip and the “elbow”).

“I hope you’re happy, human.”

Next, Dr. Fellen used laser therapy to work on relaxing some of Feta’s tense muscles and, hopefully, reduce some of the pain she detected in Feta’s leg and back. (Animals are very stoic, and cats especially so, so it can be very difficult to detect pain if you don’t know exactly what you are looking for. And, despite experience with dogs and horses, I didn’t know how to evaluate a cat! But by feeling particular areas around Feta’s spine, Dr. Fellen was able to figure out areas of discomfort. This is another reason that evaluation by a professional is so important – wouldn’t it be awful to know that your pet had been in pain and you didn’t even know?)

Dr. Fellen applies the laser wand to Feta’s stifle joint. (“Worst. Spa. Ever.” -Feta)

Although she didn’t like the pressure of the laser wand, the warmth of the laser treatment must have eventually begun feeling pretty good to Feta, as she relaxed and started happy-purring while Dr. Fellen worked. (Note: cats can also purr when under stress, but her body language suggested that in this moment, they were happy purrs.)

Next we moved on to exercises and massage, which poor Feta liked significantly less. As I was holding her and being instructed how to do the exercises myself, I didn’t get a lot of photos, but it was great having individual, customized instruction on what she specifically needed for exercise and what would best address her particular problems. I will write more about them, and share some pictures/videos of our practicing, in future posts.

“Seriously uncool, you guys.”

For Feta, the most important things for her right now are stretching and exercising that leg, to get the muscles looser and more relaxed, and getting her re-used to the sensation of weight bearing on the leg, even if it’s not done in perfect form. Towards both of those aims, we are to start every “workout session” with 5-10 minutes of gentle massage, “passive range of motion” stretches, and heat (if possible) to loosen the muscles, coupled with forcing her to walk actually using that hind leg (rather than jutting it out stiffly in front of her as she crawls).

In our next post, we will talk more specifically about the stretches and exercises we are working on, as well as how Feta is faring with them. Stay tuned!

Bathrooming Battles (and Litterbox Hacks for Tripawds)

Having a tripawd cat can be very rewarding, but is not always easy – especially when it comes time to use the litterbox. Feta cat, in particular – due to her problems with her remaining hind leg – has been having some serious struggles.

When I first brought Feta home, I used the same shelter-issue, easily-sanitized, stainless steel litter pan that I’d used with previous fosters (like these cute lil guys):

Kittens included for scale and adorableness.

The shelter had warned me that Feta might need a low-sided litterbox so she could get in and out more easily, so this seemed likely to do the trick. However, after a few days of her making a tremendous mess, it seemed that the steel tray was too small for her – since she couldn’t easily turn around to dig and bury and squat to do her business, she was throwing litter all over the place and occasionally missing the box (such as the dreaded “four paws in, butt sticking out over the side” litterbox disaster position!). Also, despite my daily attempts to help her stretch and exercise, her leg seemed to be getting worse. Or at least, she was choosing to use it less. Thus, the creation of the cardboard monstrosity you saw in our earlier post!

If I’m really polite with this, will you agree to clean up after yourself?

This did well enough for a time, but cardboard is not quite as durable/cleanable as stainless steel (who would have guessed?!) and poor Feta could get in the box pretty well, but had trouble turning around and getting out, so she’d go in, do her thing, then try to leap out the sides and/or flail around while trying to turn in a circle. (In retrospect, back pain may have contributed to this?)

Also, full disclosure here, my lease was almost up and I needed a way to quickly hide evidence of Cat if my landlord wanted to show the apartment. After consulting with a number of people/websites, I decided on modifying a cheap plastic under-bed storage container, cutting (with my best kitchen shears, obviously – who has tools?!) a lowered lip for easier entry. To further try and minimize the mess (and keep my stupid cat-turd-eating dog out of the box – easy accessibility for cat means easy accessibility for dog, too!) I nested the storage bin in an extra big cardboard box with entry AND exit holes cut. To top things off, since she was getting litter all over her, I tried switching her to a more natural, more edible (you’re welcome, dog), non-clumping pellet litter. We tried both Yesterday’s News and Feline Pine (mixture pictured here).

Wow, so luxurious. Doesn’t it make you just want to sit down and have a poo? No? Okay, how bout a nice pee??

While this contraption suited me just fine (aesthetic challenges of having a giant cardboard-enclosed litterbox in the middle of my living room notwithstanding), it was only somewhat helpful for our dear Cheesecat. The lip was still too high for her to go in comfortably, though she often preferred to go in on the high side anyway. Furthermore, she was unable to support herself in a good bathrooming position, so generally ended up falling mid-business. This was not enjoyable for either of us.

Was it the pellet litter (too slippery??), the plastic box (maybe that was slippery? maybe the sides were not ideal? maybe the shape was wrong?), or just a result of problems with that back leg? I didn’t have a chance to fully test any of these theories, because shortly after the birth of Big Plastic Potty Box, Feta got adopted!!! So into the trash it went.

Unfortunately, Feta continued to have trouble in her new home, and eventually came back to foster with me. This meant, among other things, that I needed to come up with a new litterbox solution.

Operating under the assumption (okay, blind guess) that the pellet litter was too slippery, we went back to regular clay litter. As a first, simple attempt, I jury-rigged a simple cardboard box by cutting it down and taping the inside (for some desperate semblance of waterproofing). (The baking pan with Feline Pine was for the current foster kitten’s use – more details and cute Tripawd-on-Kitten action to follow in a later post.)

Success! …if you describe success as making a box for your cat to effectively poop in. Turns out, I do. Success!!

The cardboard “wings,” as well as the towel underneath, were absolutely necessary for controlling the spill-over problems. Feta seemed to like this box setup well enough to use it with fewer butt-over-the-side mess incidents, but it was really messy. As her back leg was now worse than ever, she was essentially a 2-legged cat trying to use a litterbox. Awesome.

I tried several other variations – the two-tall-sided plastic-lined box being my personal favorite from a cleaning point of view – but they all had different drawbacks and all were still very messy. (It’s hard to avoid mess when the poor cat sits in her business and then drags her butt all over the floor!) So, our current state of affairs is clay litter (don’t buy the cheap stuff in the tub you see in that one picture, it’s gross, go for the name brand or something less dusty) and a wide array of litterboxing options, with LOTS OF RUGS AND FLOOR PROTECTORS (did I mention how I rent?! yeah…) and super-diligent cat-and-litter-cleaning.

Yes, that is a home carpet shampooer and a vacuuming robot on the right. Do not recommend the robot for litterbox issues (they will drag poo etc. all over the place worse than a bum-dragging 2-legged cat), but the carpet shampooer has been VERY nice to have.
FML. You're lucky you're cute, cat.
The current setup. The “puppy pads” do not work very well, since they get caught and dragged on the cat. The cardboard works well to absorb urine and catch litter spills, but for obvious reasons needs to be changed out frequently. The small rug I saved from the trash room when a neighbor threw it out because it had been peed on all over the place. (“A pee rug?! PERFECT FIND!” I say, taking it home, because I am insane. See also: carpet shampooer.) The larger rug is one I was going to throw away but decided to keep so I wouldn’t get too upset when that area of the floor got soiled and litter-sprinkled. The plastic sheet is one from Ikea designed to protect floors from rolling chairs – works very well as protection because it lies flat and is not too slippery, but stray urine can get under it and get disgusting, so additional protection is also recommended. Here, I have a full cardboard box flattened out with gaps taped shut to protect the wall and the under-boxes spaces.

So, that was a lot about cat bathrooms. My Cliff’s Notes version, based on what I’ve tried so far:

  • Pellet litter may be slippery. Clay or something like wheat or corn litter may be a better choice (though note: if there are any wounds or incisions still open, litter may stick to them, so something organic and non-clumping is likely to be your best bet).
  • Cats, especially limited-mobility cats, really like to have an entrance and a SEPARATE exit path from the litterbox. To help your tripawd feel extra comfortable, provide them with more than one way to get in/out of the box.
  • Low sides are essential, but are likely to contribute to mess.
  • Use floor protectors, cheap rugs, old towels, heavy-duty rubber litter mats, etc. to help contain the mess and save your floors/sanity.

Do any of you have tips on litter box hacks? Would love to hear what other tripawd owners have found effective!

Feta’s Stump Stumps Me

So, I found myself with this 3-legged cat living in my bathroom. After diving head-first into fostering, this was neither the strangest nor least-expected thing to happen to me this year.

Still can't decide if she sniffs and licks me out of love, or a desire to see if I'm edible.
“Well, looks like I ended up with a 3-legged bathroom cat.” “Well, looks like I ended up with a weird-smelling crazy human.”

 

While the cat herself was easier than expected, her leg stump was starting to seriously concern me. I didn’t know what if anything I should be doing to care for it (clean it? bandage it? leave it alone?), and it looked to me to be open and unhappy. But, since it changed very little from when I first brought her home over the next several days, I figured it must be working as intended. Or something like that.

Seriously, that does not look comfortable

Before long, however, it started to get worse, and what I thought was “cat breath” smell I started to suspect was actually coming from the wound. Uh oh!!!

Graphic wound picture – if the amputation site looks like this, it is not good. Also, bad smell is bad news.

Consulting with the shelter, it was decided I would try to keep her from licking it and see if it got better.

Curse you, human, and your lick-blocking contraptions!

“I will lie here glaring at you with angst and resentment until you feel guilty enough to feed me the good treats.”

 

To keep her up and moving about, I also started feeding her kibble out of an interactive food dispensing ball. This worked great, except she would roll it around until it got stuck in corners or passageways where here lifesaver-bumpered head couldn’t reach. Eventually we gave up the food ball and donated it to another cat at the shelter whose current enrichment feeder was wearing out.

Before long it became evident that the licking was more likely to be a consequence of, rather than the cause of, the issues with the amputation site. So, much to everyone (except the vet)’s dismay, back to the vet clinic she went for a thorough wound-cleaning and antibiotics.

I took advantage of her absence to Macguyver her a new litterbox contraption, as she was having significant trouble using the standard-shelter-issue stainless steel pan I’d had for her before. Cardboard “waterproofed” with decorative tape? Why not? Nothing but the most attractive bathroom decorations for my precious, abscessed, 3-legged shelter snowflake.

One must be polite to one's pottying pets
Thanks for your sacrifice, neighbor’s Chewy.com box I pulled out of the trash room! Pinterest, here we come!

 

To everyone’s frustration (except perhaps the vet’s office, since they loved “Mama Cat” and were always happy to see her), this process of leg infection, treatment, good health, then reinfection, continued through several more cycles (and several different antibiotics) before things finally settled down. Fortunately, the abscesses all seemed to be relatively superficial, but we were all still very concerned that the infection might either spread (“It’s not like there’s anything more we could cut off!” lamented the shelter director) or indicate the initial infection was worse than we’d thought (“But what if it’s been the SAME INFECTION all along?!” I moaned to my dog. He sighed indifferently.).

Along the way, Feta was graduated to the full Cone of Shame, which she had to wear for several months. She donned it quite glamorously, even if she looked kind of like a deformed art deco lamp.

“I am a blooming Catflower Lamp! Give me treats to see me shine!!”

 

Eventually, after some additional veterinary flushing and re-suturing, the amputation site looked like this – forming an ugly-but-healthy kind of barrier of dead skin, which eventually came off of its own accord. The tricky part was keeping a close eye on it to make sure no infections / abscesses returned.

Maybe we’ll give you a few more weeks to recover before your Sports Illustrated bikini shoot, eh, Feta?

 

What was most remarkable to me was how sweet and cooperative Feta remained through the whole recovery process. Whether it was happily slurping up her raspberry-flavored meds (mixed with wet food and canned pumpkin, to help with poo problems):

This looks more like the result of the poo problems than the prevention!!

Or just continuing to be gentle and affectionate with me even as I gave her uncomfortable hot compresses and leg stretches several times a day:

Volume up for a purr party!

Feta the Cheese Cat was just a rockstar, a true model patient. Good girl, Feta. You are awesome.

Cheese Cat sold separately.
Like my shirt? You can get one just like it, or one featuring a cat instead, here! 😀