My Cat Peed On My Laptop. Time for Prozac?

This is my cat, Tommy. But, for the sake of this article, let’s call him Shifty McPissPants.

I kid, I kid! I’m going to continue calling him Tommy, because Shifty McPissPants takes entirely too long to write out. Then again, maybe I could shorten it to SMPP? No, no… I’ll just stick with Tommy.

Before I get into the terrible tale of Tommy and his urethra of unilateral destruction, I should give you some back story on where this cat came from. Perhaps if you better understand this particular cat’s issues, you might better understand why I’ve had to drag the P word into this situation.

Yes, the P word. Of course, I’m talking about Prozac. What? What did you think the P word was going to be? Pon Farr?

Anyway, before I feel the powerful side eye of every cat lover on the Internet come down upon me, I would like to answer your first question in advance.

Yes, many veterinarians do prescribe and dispense Prozac for cats. Also, as a bonus freebie, I’ll answer your second question. Yes, this is a thing now. I’d also like to go ahead and answer your third question. But, as the third question in this series of inquiries is usually just muffled laughter, let’s all just move on with our lives for a second and let me return to the sad story of Tommy’s broken bladder.

Tommy is an adopted cat from the most Dickensian of backgrounds. He was originally found by a group that rescues dogs here in the Bronx. They found him living in an abandoned basement with a bunch of pit bulls, most likely cast off fighter dogs. He was already one or two years old by the time he was found.

How he had managed to survive this scenario, I am unsure. But, my best guess is that he was either raised around the dogs, or that he secretly has a Hattori Hanzo sword hidden somewhere in his fur and knows Kung Fu. Knowing him as I do, both seem plausible to me.

After being rescued from the basement fight club, Tommy was taken to Union Square to work the ho stroll and find a new home. Since the people who found him typically only rescue dogs, they had no place for him to stay. So, Tommy’s choices were to study up real quick on how to give good face and get adopted, or spend the night in the back of a van waiting to be taken in by a cat rescue agency. Tommy hates cars; so he licked his paws, slicked back his fur, opened his eyes real wide and got ready for a long day of begging.

I happened to be on my way to Barnes And Noble that evening, when I heard a faint meow among the crowd. I turned my head, and noticed this small tiger striped cat in a little cage in between many cages of dogs with a sign that read “Hello! My name is Tommy, and I need a home TODAY!”.

I immediately paused because, at that very moment, I had been on my way to the book store to buy… Wait for it… The musical, Tommy! YES! This was FATE, people! So, of course, my heart melted and I said the cat could come home with me. Thus, Tommy was rescued from a horrible life in the Bronx and given a newer, better life in the Bronx!

Things started off well enough. I loved the cat, and he loved me. However, the cat did not love my mother, my boyfriend, many of my house guests, pizza delivery guys, and the list goes on and on. He would attack strangers without warning, and cry loudly when upset. For the record, yes, my cat cries. He actually sounds exactly like a human toddler when he’s really unhappy. It’s honestly a bit disturbing.

Anyway, the fun didn’t stop with his strange ventriloquist like meow. No; he would also refuse to eat when I wasn’t home, eventually resulting in a hospitalization for a stomach ulcer suffered while I was away visiting family. He had a pet sitter, plenty of water and plenty of food. But, it didn’t matter. If I wasn’t home, he would freak out and not eat.

After about a year of this, another rescue cat happened to find it’s way into my life. He is a wonderful old grey kitty named Giovanni, or Gio for short. His back story is much simpler than Tommy’s. His previous owner was facing eviction, and could no longer keep the cat. Basically, Gio is a recession victim who’s previous family got downsized.

Gio was 11 years old when I got him, and is the most drama free pet you’ll ever meet. I thought it might help Tommy to have another cat around the apartment, and that perhaps this would reduce his extreme separation anxiety. To be fair, it did help with the separation issues. But, there was a price to pay for that help… A terrible, terrible price.

Shortly after Gio arrived, Tommy began peeing on EVERYTHING! I can’t have rugs. I can’t leave anything on the floor. I have to be ever mindful of certain chairs before I sit in them. Tommy’s wandering urine stream has literally ruined hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in possessions throughout the years.

However, I love my cats. So, I’ve always done my best to deal with the problem calmly and rationally, and just clean up after Tommy when he makes mistakes. But, after three years together, there came a breaking point. Tommy’s cantankerous tinkle trail took a wrong turn that nearly landed him right back in a box on Union Square.

Some of you may have noticed (shout out to my loyal readers! HAAAAY!!! I love you three!) that this is my first blog in quite some time. Well, that is because… How do I phrase this delicately? That is because…

TOMMY FUCKING PISSED ALL OVER MY LAPTOP!!!1!!1!!!11!!!

*hyperventilates, slowly regains composure*

Ok. Yes. You can maybe see how the act of destroying my life might qualify as a last straw, right? If that act alone wasn’t enough to scar a person forever, I want you to also imagine the smell that attempting to turn on a laptop covered in urine creates. Yeah, you would be at a breaking point too.

Now that you’ve got all that imagery in your head, let me tell you what happened next.

To put it simply, I flipped the fuck out!

Sorry for my language here, but there’s really no other way to say it. I cried, I lost my temper, I called the cat names and even came close to smacking him in the face at one point. But, eventually, I got myself together and decided this was it. The cat either had to be medicated, or he had to go.

The first thing I did, was to reach out to friends and family who might be able to take Tommy off my hands. All of them having met Tommy, and many still dealing with scar tissue from the experience, I was met with a resounding “hell no, we don’t want your ninja beast assassin cat!”. Unsurprised, I advanced on to my next idea.

I called and/or emailed all the no kill shelters I could find in the city, and I was told everything from “He’s too old” to “he has too many medical problems” to the formal variation of “hell no, we don’t want your ninja beast assassin cat!”. In short, no one wanted him.

This left me with just two options. I could leave him with a kill shelter, where he would surely be euthanized within a day. Or I could take him to the vet and discuss my medical options. Well, as mad as I was about Laptop Gate (RIP netbook. Never forget.), I still love my cat and I was not about to condemn him to death just because he makes a horrible pet.

So, I took Tommy to the vet and emptied out my already sad bank account to have urine and blood work done. As it turns out, there is absolutely nothing physically wrong with him. He used to have some urinary tract issues and some testicle problems, but they have cleared up now. He’s fixed, he’s healthy, he has his own litter box and there is no medical reason for him to be using my laptop as a bathmat for his golden showers. In short, he isn’t sick. He’s just crazy. At that point, I asked the vet about putting him on Prozac.

Vets put animals on Prozac when they have exhausted all other options for fixing unwanted pet behaviors. Prozac in doses meant for small animals can be purchased online for as little as $8 a month. Most people I’ve talked to who have tried it have reported positive results, and it seems to be fairly safe for most pets.

Of course, there are catches. You have to feed it to the animal orally. For me, since my cat won’t eat most treats, that would mean risking my life twice a day to physically push the pill down his throat. There’s also the concern that the cat will never be able to ween off the drugs. From my own research, I seem to have found an equal number of people who used Prozac to modify behavior and gradually took the cat off of it as I have people who were never able to get their cat off the drug.

Plus, there is the social stigma of having a pet on Prozac. Nothing says “crazy cat lady” quite like having to say stuff like “oh crap! Sorry guys, gotta go. My cat needs his Prozac!” or complaining to the pharmacist at Target that you want a purple band for your Valium and a yellow one for your cat’s. As 26 year olds go, I already have a lot of stuff in my apartment that treads that line. All I’m saying is, I don’t need a bottle of cat Prozac hanging out next to my “Murder, She Wrote” DVDs.

Thankfully, the vet had an alternate solution. She recommended something called a Feliway Plug In. It works just like a Glade Plug In, except that it releases a certain kind of pheromone throughout the apartment that calms the cat down and reduces his aggressive urges. It’s not cheap, but it’s much easier than trying to force feed a cat pills twice a day. It’s also a lot more natural than outright drugging an animal, which I admit I was always a little uncomfortable with.

Well, I’ve been using the Feliway Plug In for about four weeks now, and I am happy to report that I’ve seen definite improvement in Tommy’s behavior. He hasn’t peed on anything since the laptop, and he was even nice to my boyfriend for at least twenty full seconds the other day!

Is he cured? No, not exactly. He’s still not going to be winning any Miss Congeniality contests anytime soon. But, he isn’t a complete curmudgeon with a loose urine spray anymore either. So, for that alone, I am grateful.

As a little bonus for this long awaited blog (HAAAY!!! Second shout out to my loyal readers!!! EXTRA SPECIAL shout out to anyone I’m not related to or sleeping with!), I’m also posting the comic I made last month for my friends at Doggie Escorts in Brooklyn! If you live in BK and have pets, please check them out.

Www.doggieescorts.com

(click images to enlarge)

Now that I have a new netbook, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled DetRiotGirling. Stay tuned for more comics and stories, and thank you for your support during and after Laptop Gate 2011. It’s very much appreciated!

If you have your own problem pet at home, I’ve put together a few Amazon and Ebay links just for you!

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Buy my first e-book, How BP Oiled The Gulf, for the Kindle and check out a few of my favorite Kindle/iPad accessories on Amazon!

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