felines and fungus

I really didn't want to make this the topic of my first actual blog post since 2005, but I just couldn't help it. This has been an ongoing saga in our house and since new events have transpired recently it's been on my mind a lot, so it's what I'm writing about. This might be long...

Anyone who has been around us much in the last year or so knows we adopted two cats - Rockie and Rena - from the Safe Haven for Ringworm Cats no-kill shelter in Raleigh. If you look at the pictures, Rena is the cute little black and white tuxedo cat who for some reason in photographs looks like she's going to turn you to stone and eat your soul if you look directly into her eyes. She was 1-2 years old when we adopted her, according to the shelter. Rockie is the not quite so attractive, somewhat dingy and ugly, but lovable, cat who is fluffy in half the pictures and shaved like giant rat in the other half. The shelter said he was 7-9 years old.

Let's talk about Rockie. Rockie is FIV positive and what they call a "special needs" cat. He had been at the shelter for so long without finding a home that they waived the adoption fee when we said we wanted him. We knew he was going to be a project and need some serious TLC, but you should have seen him that day. When they opened his crate at the shelter he crawled right into Meg's arms. They took us into the playroom and I don't think I've ever seen a sweeter animal with such a craving for some basic affection and a real home. Meg fell in love with him immediately, and while I admit I took a little convincing, having gone in sort of expecting to walk out with kittens, I fell in love with him too. It was impossible not to, and despite everything I'm about to say, it still is.


Fast forward to.... well, pretty much right after that. Rockie picks up ringworm. Really it's more likely that he already had ringworm when he came home from the shelter. Regardless of when and where he got it, he gave it to us. Getting ringworm generally results in extremely itchy, ring-shaped, rather gross-looking spots on your skin. Athlete's foot, jock itch... all ringworm. The name they give it just depends on where it is on you. We figured out it was ringworm when Meg's friend at work said to her, "ew, gross, that looks like ringworm." A little searching on the interwebs and we were pretty much certain she was right.

We took Rockie to the vet to confirm that we were correct in our diagnosis, which they do by using a special UV lamp in the dark that makes the fungus glow bright green. It's kind of awesome and weird. They told us what they do for ringworm is completely shave the animal, bathe them with a medicated shampoo, and start them on an oral antifungal medication. We'd also need to bathe him ourselves somewhat regularly while the medicine did its work. He needed a dental check-up too, so we scheduled both of these things on the same day. Rough day at the doctor for Rockie. They had to knock him out for the dental exam, which made the shaving a lot easier since for them since they didn't have to fight with him over it. But for Rockie it meant that he showed up at the vet that day a perfectly normal, fungus-covered cat, and woke up hours later completely naked with a sore mouth.


A week or two later, Rockie cleared up, thankfully, and all was well in the world again. Until about 6 months later when it happened again. Lather, rinse, repeat. While any animal can get ringworm, most of them don't because their immune systems are able to fight it off. With Rockie's FIV, his immune system is always compromised, so he can't fight it off like a regular cat. He never really shows any visible signs of ringworm, although he does get itchy. We know he has it again when we get it again (explain to me why Rena, the cat, can fight this off better than I can). This time around we decided that Meg and I would keep him shaved and continue to bathe him fairly regularly to keep the ringworm away from him. I admit that we did not do this as regularly as we intended to, but we did do it. Fast forward again to now, though, and Rockie has it again. $@#%!

Last week Meg took Rockie to the NC State Veterinary Teaching Hospital, where they have specialists in dermatology. They were recommended by our vet. Why they never mentioned this place before we have no idea, but it's pretty awesome that it's there and so close by. Meg was there with Rockie for four hours while the doctors turned him into a science experiment, taking sample after sample of his skin, hair, and general crustiness. They sent him home with two new medications. One is a topical treatment that we have to smear all over his body every three days. The other is a different kind of oral medication. We learned that the oral medication our vet had given us before has immunosuppresant properties and really should never be given, especially to an FIV-positive cat. Minus 5 points for our vet. This vet, like the other vet, is also certain that the ringworm will not come back. Because that just never happens on this treatment plan. To this, we say, "You've got to be kidding me. This is the THIRD TIME!" But what can we do. We'll do as we're told and make the little dude feel better. It's a different treatment, so while I have approximately zero confidence that it isn't going to come back again, I'll give the vet the benefit of the doubt. If it does come back, then we'll have to put our foot down and figure out a true, long-term solution.


This post has gotten crazy long, but I guess it's been kind of a crazy story. It's hard to describe the frustration of this whole ordeal. Between having to tell our friends and family not to come to our house for fear of giving them ringworm, and feeling the need to slather antifungal cream on anything and everything that itches because we think it might be ringworm, this has not been fun, to say the least. In fact, it's been really crappy. It's funny though.... this cat has almost no redeeming qualities. He's rather ugly. He's awkward. He's clumsy. He's scraggly and unkempt (or unthrifty, as the dermatologist's report stated). He sucks at cleaning himself. And he gives everyone fungus. Yet we love him to death. When he jumps up on your lap and gives you his tiny, hopeful, pathetic attempt at a meow, and then tries three times to curl up in your lap without falling off, you just can't help but love him. This cat has had a rough life, and it shows. All we want is to know that we took this lonely, sick, beat-up cat that nobody wanted, gave him a good home with people who love him and care for him, and let him live out the rest of his days, happy for once in his life. And he is happy now. That's what makes it all worth it. It's a nice feeling knowing that you truly rescued an animal that needed help. It helps his case that he's the sweetest animal I have ever known. He's part of the family now, and despite all my complaining about him, I wouldn't give him up for anything. So that's that.

I could do without the fungus though.