This Is Your Cat on Drugs
Many say that people are too quick to medicate problems, rather than go to the trouble of enforcing discipline, going to the gym or simply taking a vacation. This is as true of pets as it is with anyone else, and while the issue of psychotropic drugs is a thorny one, there are many circumstances in which medication can be a genuine, even kind solution.
No advocate of animal welfare would recommend meds over a sensible training and behavior program, and no pet owner wants a zoned-out kitty at home. Psychotropic drugs are complex; many have side effects which impact the liver, kidneys and respiratory system. They work on the theory that behavior problems are the result of an imbalance of serotonin levels in the brain. Drugs like Fluoxotine raise production of this and other hormones, resulting in a calming effect. It’s rarely that simple, though, since the “chemical soup” of each individual brain is different. This makes any psych meds notoriously unpredictable in terms of results. Many pet owners have to experiment with various medications and dosages before finding that magic formula that eases anxiety or aggression without dulling the senses or causing adverse side effects.
It may sound like I’m discouraging the use of meds, but I’m not. In the case of rescue animals, the right medication can mean the difference between a loving forever home and the pound. As an example, I need look no further than my own little urchin, Duffy.
Duffy, my black longhaired Scottish Fold, came to me as a “desperation rescue”. He is a gorgeous boy, but he was badly malnourished and had a broken tail when he came to live with me. His life to that point had been chaotic and frightening. After being an only kitten, he was soon confronted with a new cat, a frenetic toddler and an abusive relationship between the adults in the house. He was, to put it mildly, a hot mess.
Every bit of knowledge I have was brought to bear with this cat, and he soon regained his health and formed a strong bond with me and my son. But no matter what I did, Duffy continued to guard his food, stalk the other cats and swat whatever passed by, even me. Some combination of genetics and environment made total adjustment impossible for him.
None of us can afford to have a dangerous animal in the house, and a frightened cat is very dangerous indeed. Knowing that an aggressive cat would be euthanized at a shelter, we turned to medication. Did a miracle occur? No. Duffy could still be described as antisocial, even cranky. He is improving, though, and there may well come a day when we can taper off the meds. In the meantime, they allow my little hobbit to stay home with someone who loves him. If a mood-altering drug makes that possible, as far as I’m concerned, that’s where any controversy is laid to rest. J
