What's going on with my cat?

Luxor and me. Blue-eyed and bright in our first year together.

Last night marked my first foray to an emergency vet. I feel lucky that I never needed to take one of my pets there until now. I always expected I'd be taking one of the dogs first...

Luxor did not come to me in typically wayward fashion. Rather, I sought him out via Craigslist. I had impulsively decided that I must have an oversized cat -- to go with my microscopic dog. In the photo and description provided by his former owner, Luxor seemed like the perfect candidate. With his arresting blue eyes, pink nose and creamy gray and charcoal Lynx Point Siamese markings, Luxor was undeniambly handsome. He had also spent the first two years of his life with a dachshund, so it seemed likely that he'd manage to get along with my miniature pinscher Scooby.

For the most part, they are friends. Scooby and I have both sustained many painful catbites over the past three years, and I swear that Luxor has framed Scooby for a few "accidents." But I have caught the two of them snuggling -- by themselves and with our other dogs -- on many occasions. My own relationship with the cat has been rocky. As I said, he's a biter, and I am his most frequent target. He has also done more damage to my house than any of the dogs. But when Luxor is being good (and that's most of the time, especially when weather permits him to get adequate backyard time), he's a dream. And he's definitely always on his best behavior around guests, so he happens to be one of those cats that all of my friends and family go ga-ga over.

Luxor's illness came on suddenly last night. He had been puky for about a day, but that's kind of a cat thing, so I didn't think much of it. Around midnight, I searched for him and found him lying in a clearly distressed state, huddled against a door in the darkest part of the house. Thinking I could comfort him, I brought him into the bedroom. On the bed, he seemed to go to sleep but his body seemed more limp than usual, and his legs, ears and muscles kept twitching. A few minutes later, Scooby scared him, and he took off but seemed unsteady on his feet. I actually thought he was going to fall backwards from the top step of our staircase.

Terrified that he might be experiencing an allergic reaction to some flea spray I had applied to him the night before (against my own better judgment), I rushed to the vet. By the time we got there, one of his blue eyes was clouded with blood.

The actual diagnosis is still not complete. According to the vet, it seems to just be a coincidence that I happened to apply flea spray shortly before this episode. Rather, it seems that some underlying unknown issues are coming to a head -- glaucoma and likely lymphoma. He can't come home until tomorrow at the earliest. And we have a lot to think about.