This is Oscar.
I was with my friend when she adopted him as a kitten. He was the goofiest little thing you've ever seen; he looked like a little lemur with a funny circular gray and black facial pattern. He had a favorite blanket that he liked to knead and suckle on. He was a very sweet boy that would get along well with the other kitties in the house, but for the most part was a kitty that liked to keep to himself.
After a year or so, Oscar started spraying in the house. He was diagnosed with a UTI, and that was figured to be the end of that. No biggie.
The spraying would continue; sometimes accompanied by a UTI, sometimes not. I remember seeing an Animal Planet program that mentioned Prozac being used to combat the problem, and passed along the information to my friend. This worked well for a year or so.
My friend had a beautiful stray Ragdoll-ish kitty show up at her door one day, that she ended up keeping. I can't remember if the problem was immediate or if it developed over time, but Oscar and another one of the male kitties would terrorize her, cornering her and taking out clumps of her hair on occasion. It was random, and not terribly frequent, but worthy of addressing.
I offered to take Oscar and try him at my place. I had my own good sized clowder of kitties, but hoped that Oscar's issues were of an isolated sort and that he would learn to love his new home. I've had many people remark at how well my kitties get along with one another, so my hope was that Oscar would naturally weave himself into the positive vibe.
From the beginning, Oscar was still a keep-to-himself kitty. He had a favorite spot on the cat tree in the spare bedroom, and would venture out into the living room with the rest of us on occasion, and sometimes get on my chest as I was lying down to sleep, and give me little nose licks while kneading the blanket. He so loved his soft blankets.
A few months ago I noticed some spraying on the side of the shower stall; there's a perch I keep in the tub, and it was being sprayed from there. Along with that, there was peeing taking place between litter boxes (I have a room where they are arrayed side-by-side, in addition to 2 other litter box locations). I could see how this could happen on rare occasion, but it was becoming somewhat regular. And these are jumbo boxes, with Oscar not a large cat. I had invested in a spy camera at this point, as we all know what it's like to isolate a problem kitty among the masses.
Sure enough, Oscar had a UTI. Whew! Again, no biggie; just glad that we got to the bottom of it before he became too miserable. He was successfully treated. Mind you, Oscar has been on Prozac since I've had him, as well; and he's occasionally had the rare spray spot from time to time that I just endured as Oscar being Oscar.
The erratic peeing and spraying didn't stop. He now found an addition place to spray, on the side of the tub. What I didn't notice at first, was that he was also spraying the front door (this was an issue months prior as well, that seemed to have been curbed). Within a matter of weeks, there were at least 10 spots at various points in my home that were getting sprayed; typically walls, but also climbing toys, dressers, my bed...anything was fair game. Interestingly, when I did manage to catch him using the litterbox, he always peed in a spraying position. He was checked often, and was always physically healthy. To compound the issue, one of my other kitties, Rossi, often decided to play tit-for-tat with him, spraying the same spots. I was to find out later that Rossi is in the early throes of kidney failure, so I chalked his issues up to that, for the time.
It struck me that perhaps now was a good time to try a new medication, since Oscar spent so much time lounging; perhaps this was a sign, or he was trying to tell me something. After weaning him off of Prozac, I put him on Buspar. I had a very affectionate kitty, but one no less aversed to spraying. The next number of weeks were spent relocating litter boxes, swapping out boxes for different sizes, colors, litter textures (sometimes no litter at all, since Oscar liked peeing on the protective plastic I was now using). I had plenty of boxes to experiment with, so it wasn't a difficult exercise; but it also wasn't working. My attempt to isolate him temporarily led to him being so anxiety-ridden, he peed and sprayed all over the carpeted hallway outside the bathroom. I was afraid to leave my home for more than a few hours at a time, and when I did, I would immediately check the cameras (I had 3 by this time, in various locations) upon arriving home. This was my life.
But what I didn't consider at the time, was that even worse, this was Oscar's life.
It finally clicked one day when I came home from lunch to check the cameras. The bathroom hadn't been sprayed, and I was tickled about that. After checking a camera from a different room, I went to use the bathroom myself, and noticed someone had sprayed just in the last few minutes. I silently told myself that if Oscar was on camera doing it, then surely he was unhappy and trying to tell me something. He had essentially waited for me to show me his displeasure.
Of course, it was Oscar.
I had run out of options, as had Oscar. My first thought was that perhaps he would like the freedom of being a barn kitty. I tried indoctrinating him to the outdoors with a harness, but he was very fearful; that was not to be the life for him either. I reached out to anyone and everyone for help in any fashion. If you've ever had to do that with a situation like this, you know how difficult that can be; not knowing what you want to hear...so much confusion and yet so much at stake.
Through a bit of serendipity, a co-worker of mine has a sister-in-law that does cat rescue. After a lengthy conversation with her, she was convinced that Oscar's issues were environmental, and gave me a bit of a tongue-lashing for having him on Prozac in the first place. Her concerns came from the best of places; she was the most die-hard animal advocate I have ever spoken to. She was all about what was best for Oscar, and I loved that about her. And thankfully, she was able to sell me wholeheartedly that Oscar needed a different home to find happiness; because despite going through the motions trying to find solutions for him, deep down I never thought I would be breaking up my family. It was a hard sell, and she pulled it off.
Within a few days, she had an older couple lined up that had recently lost their own beloved kitty. He would be the lone feline, but with an older Schnauzer around, it was going to be a crapshoot, as any rehoming is.
It has been about 3 weeks, but I received another update just the other day; Oscar and the Schnauzer are still best buds (Oscar took to him immediately upon setting foot in their house), and their 14 year old son is enamored with him to the point that it's inspired him to want to become a veterinarian. Oscar squats every time in a low litter pan, and never misses. They love him to pieces.
As an aside, Rossi has since stopped spraying as well, and is doing great in spite of his kidney issues.
This is everything Oscar wanted and needed, but I mourn him. For 3 years, he was family.
I had to write this for my own therapy. I just knew that eventually I was going to find the answer for what ailed him, and we would have our family all together, forever. I would tell him on numerous occasions that "No matter what, buddy, we're going to get through this...because that's what families do". I do know in my head that Oscar's shot at a happy life did not include me, but my heart is broken. I am elated for him, yet I am wracked with guilt. Someday I will stop crying, but that day is not today.
I miss my cat.
I was with my friend when she adopted him as a kitten. He was the goofiest little thing you've ever seen; he looked like a little lemur with a funny circular gray and black facial pattern. He had a favorite blanket that he liked to knead and suckle on. He was a very sweet boy that would get along well with the other kitties in the house, but for the most part was a kitty that liked to keep to himself.
After a year or so, Oscar started spraying in the house. He was diagnosed with a UTI, and that was figured to be the end of that. No biggie.
The spraying would continue; sometimes accompanied by a UTI, sometimes not. I remember seeing an Animal Planet program that mentioned Prozac being used to combat the problem, and passed along the information to my friend. This worked well for a year or so.
My friend had a beautiful stray Ragdoll-ish kitty show up at her door one day, that she ended up keeping. I can't remember if the problem was immediate or if it developed over time, but Oscar and another one of the male kitties would terrorize her, cornering her and taking out clumps of her hair on occasion. It was random, and not terribly frequent, but worthy of addressing.
I offered to take Oscar and try him at my place. I had my own good sized clowder of kitties, but hoped that Oscar's issues were of an isolated sort and that he would learn to love his new home. I've had many people remark at how well my kitties get along with one another, so my hope was that Oscar would naturally weave himself into the positive vibe.
From the beginning, Oscar was still a keep-to-himself kitty. He had a favorite spot on the cat tree in the spare bedroom, and would venture out into the living room with the rest of us on occasion, and sometimes get on my chest as I was lying down to sleep, and give me little nose licks while kneading the blanket. He so loved his soft blankets.
A few months ago I noticed some spraying on the side of the shower stall; there's a perch I keep in the tub, and it was being sprayed from there. Along with that, there was peeing taking place between litter boxes (I have a room where they are arrayed side-by-side, in addition to 2 other litter box locations). I could see how this could happen on rare occasion, but it was becoming somewhat regular. And these are jumbo boxes, with Oscar not a large cat. I had invested in a spy camera at this point, as we all know what it's like to isolate a problem kitty among the masses.
Sure enough, Oscar had a UTI. Whew! Again, no biggie; just glad that we got to the bottom of it before he became too miserable. He was successfully treated. Mind you, Oscar has been on Prozac since I've had him, as well; and he's occasionally had the rare spray spot from time to time that I just endured as Oscar being Oscar.
The erratic peeing and spraying didn't stop. He now found an addition place to spray, on the side of the tub. What I didn't notice at first, was that he was also spraying the front door (this was an issue months prior as well, that seemed to have been curbed). Within a matter of weeks, there were at least 10 spots at various points in my home that were getting sprayed; typically walls, but also climbing toys, dressers, my bed...anything was fair game. Interestingly, when I did manage to catch him using the litterbox, he always peed in a spraying position. He was checked often, and was always physically healthy. To compound the issue, one of my other kitties, Rossi, often decided to play tit-for-tat with him, spraying the same spots. I was to find out later that Rossi is in the early throes of kidney failure, so I chalked his issues up to that, for the time.
It struck me that perhaps now was a good time to try a new medication, since Oscar spent so much time lounging; perhaps this was a sign, or he was trying to tell me something. After weaning him off of Prozac, I put him on Buspar. I had a very affectionate kitty, but one no less aversed to spraying. The next number of weeks were spent relocating litter boxes, swapping out boxes for different sizes, colors, litter textures (sometimes no litter at all, since Oscar liked peeing on the protective plastic I was now using). I had plenty of boxes to experiment with, so it wasn't a difficult exercise; but it also wasn't working. My attempt to isolate him temporarily led to him being so anxiety-ridden, he peed and sprayed all over the carpeted hallway outside the bathroom. I was afraid to leave my home for more than a few hours at a time, and when I did, I would immediately check the cameras (I had 3 by this time, in various locations) upon arriving home. This was my life.
But what I didn't consider at the time, was that even worse, this was Oscar's life.
It finally clicked one day when I came home from lunch to check the cameras. The bathroom hadn't been sprayed, and I was tickled about that. After checking a camera from a different room, I went to use the bathroom myself, and noticed someone had sprayed just in the last few minutes. I silently told myself that if Oscar was on camera doing it, then surely he was unhappy and trying to tell me something. He had essentially waited for me to show me his displeasure.
Of course, it was Oscar.
I had run out of options, as had Oscar. My first thought was that perhaps he would like the freedom of being a barn kitty. I tried indoctrinating him to the outdoors with a harness, but he was very fearful; that was not to be the life for him either. I reached out to anyone and everyone for help in any fashion. If you've ever had to do that with a situation like this, you know how difficult that can be; not knowing what you want to hear...so much confusion and yet so much at stake.
Through a bit of serendipity, a co-worker of mine has a sister-in-law that does cat rescue. After a lengthy conversation with her, she was convinced that Oscar's issues were environmental, and gave me a bit of a tongue-lashing for having him on Prozac in the first place. Her concerns came from the best of places; she was the most die-hard animal advocate I have ever spoken to. She was all about what was best for Oscar, and I loved that about her. And thankfully, she was able to sell me wholeheartedly that Oscar needed a different home to find happiness; because despite going through the motions trying to find solutions for him, deep down I never thought I would be breaking up my family. It was a hard sell, and she pulled it off.
Within a few days, she had an older couple lined up that had recently lost their own beloved kitty. He would be the lone feline, but with an older Schnauzer around, it was going to be a crapshoot, as any rehoming is.
It has been about 3 weeks, but I received another update just the other day; Oscar and the Schnauzer are still best buds (Oscar took to him immediately upon setting foot in their house), and their 14 year old son is enamored with him to the point that it's inspired him to want to become a veterinarian. Oscar squats every time in a low litter pan, and never misses. They love him to pieces.
As an aside, Rossi has since stopped spraying as well, and is doing great in spite of his kidney issues.
This is everything Oscar wanted and needed, but I mourn him. For 3 years, he was family.
I had to write this for my own therapy. I just knew that eventually I was going to find the answer for what ailed him, and we would have our family all together, forever. I would tell him on numerous occasions that "No matter what, buddy, we're going to get through this...because that's what families do". I do know in my head that Oscar's shot at a happy life did not include me, but my heart is broken. I am elated for him, yet I am wracked with guilt. Someday I will stop crying, but that day is not today.
I miss my cat.
Last edited:
