Page Two of Last of the Cat Tribe
When the kitten was about three months old, Mike woke one night and was horrified to find Ishi unresponsive and rigid. The first thing that went through his mind was the possibility that he had rolled over in his sleep and crushed her. He was agonizing about how to break the news to me. Seconds later, Ishi raised her head and began purring. He was deeply relieved, but stunned.
Mike told me what happened and frankly, I thought he was overreacting. Ishi was three months old and the liveliest kitten I’d ever seen. She was the picture of health. What would a ‘dog person’ know anyway?
Ishi’s peculiar nocturnal incident repeated a week later. I witnessed it myself and realized Mike’s observations were correct in every detail. She began having seizures more frequently and the length of time Ishi was unconscious increased from a matter of seconds to several anxious minutes.
The veterinarian listened to the detailed description of the episodes and ordered the first of several expensive blood tests. (Is there any other kind?) The results revealed she was hypokalemic: she wasn’t metabolizing potassium. I would have to give her a pill twice a day and make her think it was her idea. Good luck with that!
Curiosity got Ishi into more trouble when she was five months old. Habitually following me everywhere, I knew she was in the garage with me when I heard a heavy crash. Ishi sped past me and into the house. I had just noticed her moments before, standing on her hind legs trying reach an object she spied on top of a tall stool. It turned out that she managed to pull at a heavy chunk of steel until it fell on the floor.
Believing she’d just given herself a bad scare, I went to reassure her. I panicked when I discovered a trail of bloody droplets leading to the bedroom. One of her hind paws had been sandwiched between the falling metal and concrete floor. She hadn’t even cried out in pain.
That emergency visit required stitches and a soft cast. Ishi decided she no longer liked her veterinarian and, truthfully, the feeling was becoming mutual. She morphed into a pint-sized cougar whenever he came within range of needle-sharp claws and teeth. Mike and I were the only humans she willingly allowed to ever touch her.
The veterinarian instructed me to return with the "kitten from hell" (his exact words) a few days after he removed the cast so he could remove the stitches from her toes. I canceled the appointment as soon as I got home, because Ishi had already pulled them all out.
A month later she was old enough to be spayed. Due to her previous aversion to stitches, Mike and I took turns warning Ishi to leave the stitches across her belly alone. That was an exhausting 24-hour a day job.
My ‘free’ kitten accumulated more than $1,000 in veterinarian bills by the time she was 11 months old. Fortunately that was the end of her problems. I even weaned her off potassium supplements before her 2nd birthday. Actually, it was Ishi’s idea. She decided she didn’t need or want them anymore and she was right.
Sweet little Jasmine lived to be 17 and lovable Sim-Sim reached 18 years of age. That established Ishi queen of the house and, in her mind, we were her devoted subjects. Ishi believed she was royalty all along, but now it was official.
Ishi reminds us daily that she will never be domesticated, repeating lessons should our memories lapse. However, when the lights are off and we are in bed with Ishi in the middle (of course), she reverts back to her kitten-hood, revealing a side of her personality reserved just for us. She sucks on the side of my thumb before falling asleep, reliving those first days of bonding between cat and human.
This is the cat that converted a dog person over to the feline side. It is Mike she looks to when she wants to wrestle and his are the hands providing the very best neck rub. He brushes her fur coat every morning. She has assigned the job of freshening the water in her bowl to Mike, although persuading him to turn on a trickle of water in the sink is more to her liking. Ishi’s learned Mike can be charmed into giving her extra cat treats throughout the day. Not surprisingly, when she runs to greet him, his face lights up and his heart melts.
My husband has discovered what I’ve known all my life: it’s a joyful adventure to be owned by a cat . . . especially Ishi: Last of the Cat Tribe. (Maybe.)
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