Ok, here’s my story about hummus. I hate beans. Lima beans, refried beans, garbanzo beans, and whatever beans are used for baked beans. Yuck. All of it. Note it’s not a flavor issue, it’s a texture thing. They are grainy. Like eating sand. I love green beans and I like peas. I can tolerate black beans if they are mixed in something, and even then I’m like the Princess and the Bean because my palate just finds the grit.
So, hummus. I always wanted to like hummus. But even pulverized, those damn chickpeas were still grainy. Every now and then I would order a vegetarian sandwich with hummus as a spread, thinking I could just ignore the beach inside, but nope. Ick.
Until last week.
I went to #Myapapaya. For some reason I was craving hummus. I don’t know what’s in chickpeas that I was actually craving, but I really wanted it. I got a salad (or bowl) with hummus, falafel, eggplant, and some kind of pickled something else. It was one of the most amazing things I have eaten for lunch in forever. The hummus was thin, lining the bottom of the bowl, with a heavy drizzle of olive oil on top. It was like eating velvet. The falafel were crispy and yes, there was a little grit there, but I’ve always been able to get past the grit when it’s fried. The other flavors complemented everything. I straight up wanted to lick the bowl, but I was on a business lunch, so I felt that would be frowned upon. I texted my sister to tell her I had taken ill; I had ordered hummus voluntarily and I liked it.
Today, the craving hit again. I originally planned to drive straight to Myapapaya but I decided to try to save a buck, go home and make my own.
I’m a good cook. Just last night Jerry ordered dinner out and complained about it and to my full enjoyment proceeded to go on about how spoiled he is by my cooking. But today, the hummus magic wasn’t there.
First I skinned a can of chickpeas. Fortunately my bestie was available to yack on the phone, so those 23 minutes flew by (I’ve learned that the hummus peeling gets faster with experience). Then I busted out the Vitamix, followed a recipe, and blended away. Then tragedy struck. I took off the lid, did something… I don’t know what… then put the tamper stick in and put the lid on (wrong order). As a result, the Vitamix ate the tamper stick.
I proceeded to push the hummus through a strainer because I had just spent 20 minutes peeling grit beans. I’m thankful they were big chunks of plastic and I’m the only one who is going to eat this dip, so I risked the plastic. Blender cleaned, hummus back in, I added too much liquid and made a hummus milkshake. Yes, I do like it thin (I think that’s Lebanese style?) but the end result was a little too thin. It was however, grit free. Yaaasssss!
I still need a new recipe. I learned that I don’t really like tahini. The recipe I used had too much. It also needed more lemon and more garlic. It’s not awful, and I put it in the refrigerator because I believe it will firm up overnight. We shall see.
I’m secretly hoping I get to go back to Myapapaya on Sunday before going to see #MiamiCityBallet at #BrowardCenter. Get my hummus fix. So save me my loyal readers. Hit me with your best hummus recipes.
When I woke up this morning I realized it’s been a spell since y’all have received an update on Mr. Duke. There’s been a nice break from taking him to the vet so frequently; he has blood drawn every three months now and this post brings us somewhere in the middle of month two. I’ve settled into a routine of blissful ignorance, pretending all is well and good. I can tell he’s lost more weight; the food issue is such an ISSUE.
I’ve concocted a mix of dry food which includes the old food: Purina One, the prescription kidney food: Purina NF, and Crack Chow (aka Purina Cat Chow). I added the Crack Chow to entice him to eat more for more calories. The side effect was that when I ran out of Crack Chow, they (yes THEY) didn’t want to touch it. I woke up a few days ago and it was like all three of them were on a hunger strike; there was a ton of dry food in the bowls and practically all of the wet food.
Ugh, the wet food. So, I introduced the prescription wet food (Purina NF) and they all gobbled it up. I was STOKED. Apparently now they are bored with it and won’t eat it (at $2 a can, I find that unacceptable behavior). I served it up to Cecilia last night and she was like WTF is this shit (sorry but that’s the exact face she made – utter disdain). In the mornings I have to give Duke a little wet food with Miralax so I swap in some Friskies for that. Today he wanted no part of it. So Ted ate it. Good times.
Treats. As discussed in previous posts, Ted now associates my bathroom with treats, so every time I go in there he trots on in with rainbows coming out of his butt. Duke won’t come in the bathroom anymore. It makes me sad, because we had special bathroom moments; it sounds weird, but it was a thing we did. You’re making it weirder… stop it! But he still loves on me and sits next to me and purrs and is my Next to Cat in all other rooms except the treatment room. I accept that.
Anyway, treats… even the treats aren’t enticing to Duke anymore. At least in relation to his fluid treatments. He knows that game. He won’t eat them in the bathroom. He’ll chow down in the kitchen after, and begs for them constantly (which I succumb to every time).
So I need a new wet food to add to the rotation. Suggestions are helpful. The grosser the better – they won’t eat anything remotely healthy for them (they take after their father; the man who taught his human son never to eat anything green on his plate). Side note: Chewy now sells prescription food. They call your vet to verify the prescription and then it’s business as usual. A little less than the vet prices too (every penny helps)!
Thank you for all the love and light you keep sending to me and Duke. We love you and appreciate you!
It’s just over a month and Duke has been such a trooper. He knows the drill for the fluids and we have a little routine down. This routine includes Ted waiting outside the bathroom door, somewhat patiently, waiting for his turn to get treats. It’s a regular Treat Fest here at Casa de Copelan these days!
Today we received the results from Duke’s labs after four weeks (two bags) of fluids. There is no improvement; there has been a slight decline. He has lost more weight. Not a lot, but for a boy who was at 15 pounds at his biggest, he looks tiny to me at 12 pounds. Last week he had really bounced back with energy; this week he’s very lethargic. They tell me it’s very much a roller coaster and this kind of vacillation is to be expected. I learned that there is no recovery from kidney disease; only management. Based on Duke’s current numbers (Stage IV) the vet is unable to give me a timeline for Duke’s longevity (my heart aches so badly, I can barely type the words). As long as he’s still interested in food we will keep plugging along, keeping him comfortable.
Our fluid regimen is changing from 125ccs every other day to 100ccs every day if he will allow it. Currently, he’s been amazing. He just looks at me and purrs. Today when I bent down with the fluid bag he turned his back to me so I could access the scapula. Then he just sat down and purred.
This post will publish a week or two after I received the update from the vet. By then perhaps I’ll have digested it a little better. Right now it’s honestly unbearable to me. I cannot go back and change anything, but Lord knows I wish I could. If only our fur babies could live forever. Thankfully, they live eternally in our hearts.
An unanticipated challenge with Duke was toys. As an avid hunter, Duke played with his prey. He knew birds, he knew mice, he didn’t know string. He did like to steal things. He stole Jerry’s socks. He stole pens (or anything small) off the coffee table. We bought a variety of toys for Baby Duke. He looked at them. He stared at us. Looked back and the toys, and back at us. We made baby-voice talking noises, and flipped those sticks adorned with ribbon, waiting for him to leap into the air and catch them! Nope. He looked at us like we were insane.
My favorite experience is when we break out the laser. Oh, Ted LOVES the laser and he will run spastically. Seriously, he is completely spastic, even at 12 years old he still plays like a kitten. He gets wide eyed, and his legs sprawl out, he spins in circles, making himself fall over. He will chase that laser around the room and practically up the walls and across the ceiling like a cartoon character. Cecilia will partake, but only if Ted isn’t around (neither CeeCee nor Duke will play with Ted because Ted is a toy hog). But Duke? He sits there and looks at them with an expression that says, “You’re chasing a ray of light that you cannot catch. What are you doing?” It makes me laugh every time.
Finally, we discovered that Duke enjoys toys with feathers. Feathers on a stick work because we can kind-of-sort-of make it look like a bird in flight and he will jump in the air, catch it and walk off with the pride of the lion. We always give him huge praise for catching his toys, which may be the only reason he does it: to please his humans.
As he’s gotten older and I suppose resorted to pure boredom, he’s become more accustomed to playing with other things. We keep a toy box in the family room and the cats help themselves to the toys they feel like. We currently have a collection of stuffed toys he enjoys. The Cosmic Carrot is a favorite of all the cats in our house. I think we have three or four currently floating around. Duke brings them all into our room at night as little gifts. He also brings us his condor, and Buddy. Buddy is a stuffed little dog with a squeaker. Daily, Duke kills him and brings him to me. I haven’t trained him to bring the toy ALL the way to me, usually when I make eye contact he drops the dog and runs to me; but the antics are something to listen to. I always miss the actual kill, but he meows and howls, then howls with his mouth full of Buddy as he carries him by the head, trotting from one room to another, delivering the squeaky dog to me (or near me).
Interestingly enough, none of the cats really care for the fake mice, nor do they care for balls. It’s all about string and feathers in our house. And catnip pillows. I keep those hidden away as special treats for them to drool over and roll on every once in a while.
A little ditty I discovered at the vet’s office. I MUST get one for home!
I’m going to open with our major coup! Woke up this morning and got out of bed. Duke followed. It’s cold here right now (maybe 60 this morning), so I got dressed and turned on the Keurig. Brought the fluid set up into my bathroom. Duke followed. I busted out some treats and Ted appeared (he can hear the opening of a treat bag, or the crack of a tuna can from pretty much anywhere). Both received some treats while I set up the needle. I was dreading the Week Two, Day Two administration.
Week Two, Day One was no bueno. Duke knows what’s happening and he didn’t want to participate that day. Needles popped out right and left. Finally I parked myself next to him while he slept in a sunny spot. I gave him pets and messed around on my phone until we were both calm. I tried to slide the needle in while he was sleeping, but he knows… so he sat up and let me do it. Then he walked off, under my dresser, and sat there. Thankfully he stayed still for a bit. We got 100ccs in before he decided to get up an shimmy his way out of the needle. The dose was fine, but it took three tries and I was convinced this would be come an increasingly difficult battle.
Then Week Two, Day Two arrived. With Ted booted out of the bathroom, Duke looked at me with eyes that said, “Ugh, we’re doing it, aren’t we.” “Yes,” I said, “Today is fluid day, but we will make it quick, and you can have treats, and then we will be done.” He reluctantly ate another treat while I fussed with the fur on his scapula. He walked away once, then settled down. He just sat there, still, while I found the spot and inserted the needle. Just still. I flipped up that roller to let the fluid flow; the needle was in a good, secure spot. I put down a handful of treats and the Dukester crunched away for 125ccs. Right at that 125 mark he was over it. He got up, leaving treats behind and walked a few steps. I turned off the IV (first time I got to turn it off without receiving a saline shower!), removed the needle gently, and opened the door for him. This time they were happy tears that trickled out unwillingly. He’s just such a good boy.
Happily, the rest of week two and now into week three (where are the WEEKS going?) have gone well. Even the “bad” sessions aren’t bad. I like to think myyyyyy fur baby is a GENIUS, but the receptionist at the vet’s office said, “Yeah, they’re all pretty good about it; it’s not really a big deal.” I beg to differ. It’s totally a big deal. I’m much more confident (like I pretended to be Week One, Day One), and Duke feels that. We’ve got a little routine going and that’s good for both of us.
A happy side effect is that Ted is thrilled because my house has become Treat Central and since he’s such a Skinny Snausage (yes, Snausage) he gets treats too. Since Cecilia pretty much keeps to herself, she hasn’t caught on to the Treat Typhoon which is good because the little fat girl shouldn’t be indulging. All in all, things are pretty good. Duke gets labs done in another two weeks, so fingers crossed there’s an improvement.
Thank you everyone for all of your warm thoughts. Duke and I really appreciate it.
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