When a cat is allergic to something, common indications will be itchy skin, coughing and/or sneezing in the case of a respiratory problem, or vomiting or diarrhea in the case of a digestive allergy.

Allergies in cats seem to fall into these major categories. Allergies to fleas, foods, things inhaled, or something they have come in contact with.

Contact allergies generally result in a fairly localized reaction on the skin. The cat may scratch a lot and/or there may be an indication of irritation at the place of contact. Most common causes of contact allergies in cats would obviously be items with which they come in close contact such as flea collars, bedding, toys, etc. The simplest cure is to remove the contact. Take the collar off or change the bedding, for example. If the irritation persists, or if you still need effective flea control, consult with your veterinarian.

Some cats may also experience allergic reactions to certain plastics and/or metals. If you suspect this in your cat, you may wish to change to a ceramic or glass feeding bowl. Another problem which may mimic a contact allergy can occur if you simply do not rinse your cat carefully and completely after its bath. Residual shampoo or soap on the skin can cause dermatitis which can be mistaken for an allergic reaction.

Happily, contact allergies in cats are the least common type.

Flea allergies, on the other hand, are very common in cats. Any normal cat will commonly experience irritation from flea bites, but a cat with a genuine flea allergy will have a more severe itching reaction to the flea's saliva. A normal cat may simply bite or scratch for a while and then go on to other things, but a cat with a flea allergy may scratch, chew, and worry at the spot until large amounts of fur are lost. This constant attempt to relieve the maddening itch or irritation may result in open sores which can add the risk of infection to the allergy's list of evils. In most cats, the most common area to be affected is going to be on the back just before the tail. The cat may also create spots of sores or scabs on the neck and head.

Inhalant types of allergies (atopy) are even more common cat allergies than flea and contact allergies! In fact, this type of allergy is probably the most common allergic problem in cats. It is possible that your cat may be allergic to the exact same allergens that you are! Tree pollens, grass pollens, and weed pollens along with the rest of the items we humans fear; mold, mildew, dust mites, and dust itself can all trigger allergic reactions in both cats and the humans they have trained to tend them.

A big difference between humans and cats, however is that while humans will most commonly react to inhaled allergens by sneezing or coughing, a cat will more commonly react by scratching an itch caused by those same allergens. Unlike a contact allergy, the cat's reaction to inhaled allergens will be a general itching of the skin as opposed to a severe reaction at a specific spot. If your cat seems to be scratching a lot and it doesn't appear to be local, as in reaction to a flea collar for example, there is a good chance that he or she is experiencing a reaction to some inhaled substance.

As in humans, true food allergies in cats can be extremely difficult to pinpoint. One reason is that they commonly demonstrate many of the symptoms of distress seen in the other groups. True food allergies in cats can cause itching and/or respiratory problems. Additionally, true food allergies can cause digestive difficulties as can other illnesses or toxic substances. In cats, food allergies are usually not present from birth, but are developed after long exposure to foods that have been eaten for long periods. Most food allergies will center around the type of protein common in the cat's diet, such as beef, pork, poultry, or lamb. Simply eliminating that type of protein by changing to another type of food will usually take care of the problem.

There are two difficult points for the cat owner when they begin to detect signs that lead them to believe that their cat may have an allergy.

Installment 12

My name is Ra-oula. Everybody calls me Lupe, Clay’s little white cat. But my secret name, the name left for me by the Elders, is Ra-oula, which in Furless, means White Angel. I have knowledge of things that I have never seen. I know many things that I have never learned, and I have seen places that I have never been. I know two different kinds of things; things that I have learned during my own life, and things remembered, gathered together, and left for me by my Kind. If I learn anything new, and if it’s important enough, it will be added to The Memory of my kind. But after so many thousands of generations, most of us living today will not leave anything new...

There is another of my Kind. It is in my garage. My Furless takes some of my food to it every day. I have not seen it, but I know it is a male. A male is not the best one to take my place, but as my Furless says, you must play the hand you are dealt. ... I smell a faint odor of dogs on him. I look in his eyes and tell him that he stinks. His eyes grow wide with fury, and his threats grow worse. Do not listen! Do not fear! Insult him again! It is the only way! I sniff at him some more, and I hiss the meanest, most offensive insult in my language, you smell like a DOG!! ……OK, now what do I do???

Now, STRIKE!!! The Memory is in control. My left-front leg flashes out, claws set to kill. One! Two! Three! Striking him on the nose, I smell blood. Now Ra-oula, wait. I can see his eyes as they fill with pain and humiliation. He turns away and half-runs under my truck, leaving a blood-trail. He believes he is running from the crazy white cat, but I know he is running from The Memory....

Enough for now Ra-Oula, leave him be.

My Furless and I go back in my house. I go to my bedroom to think about the things that have happened.

It is not over, Ra-oula. He will test you, but you will be ready.

I knew that the Pawrhah-pdddrrup in my garage would be coming into my house soon. The weather was turning cold and my Furless would be worried about him. I began to prepare. After all, I can’t let The Memory do everything. I checked to make sure that my scent was everywhere that he might want to sleep. I napped on things and in spots I would never have considered before. I dug out all the toys my Furless had ever brought me. I had never used them, but now I would. I would chew on them and put my saliva on them. It’s not easy having a visitor, everything must be just so.

The day that I knew would come, finally came. He was in my house. For the first three days, he stayed away from me. Then, when he had relaxed a little, I demanded, in a very rude voice, to know his name. He said his name was Wahhhrom, in Furless it means "Buddy", "Chum", or "Pal". Isn’t that nice? My Furless was calling him "Psycho". And it was not long before Psycho wanted to play with me. He thought he was so clever.

For his first assault, he lay upside-down in the, Look! I’m Lying Helpless On My Back position. In this technique, the careless victim, tempted by a nice soft belly, closes in. But the Helpless On Back, as it is known, is a deadly trap, and that which appears to be so helpless, is really the ideal fighting stance for my Kind. All four feet, each one armed with five Daggers of Doom, are free to slash, and the Fangs of Finality, free to snatch away the life of the gullible prey.

I put an unsuspecting look on my face, and slowly I closed in.….I pretended to look at his nice, soft, exposed belly, but at the very last moment I lunged to my right, clamping my fangs onto his throat, and pinning his head back against the cold tile floor. I kept my body sideways to him. He could not touch me, and any sudden attempts to escape would bring him serious injury, or worse. His surrender soon followed.

As I expected, losing the first round only made him more devious. He began to search out an ambush site. He decided on the kitchen counter. He could wait there for me to walk by below, and then pounce on me with all of his weight. There was plenty of clutter up there, so he could conceal himself, lying in wait. But the successful ambush requires at least two ambushers. Because they must take turns sleeping. Wahhhrom was all alone.

I stayed away from the kill zone. I pretended not to see him. I made many false starts toward the kill zone, but then I would stop and change my mind. Each time I started to walk into the ambush he would ready himself. For my Kind, these alerts demand total concentration, and lots and lots of adrenaline. After ten alerts, Wahhhrom was tiring. Maybe she will come after I take a little nap... He didn’t even stir as I leaped silently to the counter behind his sleeping form. I bit into his tail. His shriek was truly chilling.

Next, I knew he would try to “play” again. But first he would be patient, win me over, and lower my defenses. For a long time he was very friendly, even charming. I played along. Then one morning as I was walking across the living room, he suddenly dashed in front of me, cutting me off. He stood in front of me, his body swaying in a slow, menacing rhythm. It was the Cobra Style, and it was meant to intimidate and confuse me before he attacked. Instead, I would show him a little variation on the Helpless on Back technique.

Instantly, I dove forward, aiming for the smooth, slippery floor just in front of him. Then I twisted my body half way around as I slid under his chest, between his long front legs. By the time I stopped sliding, I was directly under his belly, Helpless on Back. I went to work. I sank my fangs into his upper leg and shook my head. At the same time, all of my claws raked his belly. By the time he realized where I was, his pain was pitiable. He pried himself free. He was now in a full-fledged panic.

As I had anticipated, he tried to escape down the hall. If he got into to the bedroom, I would lose the advantage. I could not go around him, I had to go over. I calculated the distance and speed I needed to leap over him, to cut him off. I leaped forward, turning half way around in the air. When I landed in front of him, we were face to face again. He was far too surprised to put up a defense. My strikes landed freely. Once again he roared in pain, and then he turned around and sprinted off.

I was having so much fun, I am afraid I over-did it a little. I went on the offensive, setting traps for him. I found the perfect spot. Under the dining room table, there is a forest of table legs and chair legs. I found an opening between them that was just barely wide enough for me to squeeze through. Then I staged a staring-contest and let him win by slowly backing away. When he saw that I was backing up, he became over-confident. He followed me step for step. I backed up all the way between the legs of the trap. He tried to follow me under the table but only his head fit between the legs. When his shoulders hit the legs, he realized his mistake, too late. His face was all mine. Whap, slap, bap! He panicked and tried to back up too fast, banging the sides of his head hard against the chair leg. By the time he freed himself, he was one downcast Pawrhah-pddddrrup.

I feel a little sorry for him. He had no idea that he was fighting not just me, but all of the Elders too. They tell me it was necessary, because finally he is not so proud. Now when The Memory comes to him, he will be able to hear it and listen. He will need to hear it, for he has been chosen to care for my Furless, after I have gone.

(Continued in the next issue of The Cat's Meow)