Petco Foundation Grant--Chubby

Was I Ever Diabetic?

I’m Chubby, and was a happy innie/outie living with my Dad in rural New England. I’ve been on insulin for some years because my Dad decided I was diabetic. Dad never took me to a vet, but I was OK until Dad got hurt and couldn’t give me food or insulin anymore. Our neighbor lady helped when she could, but not every day and she was going to be gone all summer.

I'm Chubby, and my name suits me.

Dad said it was best to find me a new home. The neighbor lady found Diabetic Cats in Need (DCIN). The DCIN ladies weren’t sure I was diabetic. They said I could have high blood sugar because I was being given insulin—if my body didn’t need that insulin, my body would raise my blood sugar to keep me safe. The neighbor lady couldn’t take me to the vet and there were no mobile vets.

A lady a thousand miles away told DCIN she would be my Mom. A DCIN friend a couple hours away came to take me to a local vet. The vet said I was healthy and my blood sugar was high. That lady came back for me so she could be my foster Mom for awhile. I was sad to leave my Dad but excited to meet my new Mom.

I have slimmed down some.

I stayed with my foster Mom for a week. I saw another vet because I needed a paper to fly to my new Mom. The vet said I was a flea factory despite the flea medicine the first vet gave me. My foster Mom flea combed me everyday, and started testing my blood sugar. She gave me insulin, but much less than I was getting before.

DCIN flew me to my new Mom. My foster Mom was sad to see me go; she said I was an excellent boy. I never showed any upset about having new experiences although I would have liked some outside time.

My new Mom has other diabetic kitties and wonderful inside and outside places for kitties. We go into the backyard enclosure through a door from the garage. I need some help with that because I’m still a bit chubby for the opening.

I'm Chubby and he's Piggy.

And best of all, I don’t get insulin anymore. Mom changed my diet to low-carbohydrate canned food, tested my blood sugar a few times a day, and only gave me three shots of insulin before my sugar was back to normal. I love my Mom for taking care of me and DCIN for rescuing me. I didn’t tell you before, but my Dad was going to have to put me to sleep if no one took me. I am glad he didn’t have to do that because that would have broken his heart.

DCIN helps diabetic cats whose owners are unable or unwilling to provide the necessary care—or who have abandoned them altogether—by finding them loving homes. They are proud of their many success stories, including mine!