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RIP Meg 1990-2004
Meg left us this morning.
We didn't have a lot of warning. Blood tests two weeks ago showed a .4 weight loss and respiratory problems, which seemed to be allergies. Only a slight gamma globulin problem, explained most likely by the allergies/asthma. Suddenly, she was vomiting bile and foam Friday night--we thought because of the steroid, or because we'd gone back to a small amount of meat in her diet. Then, she'd be normal, if quiet, and still drinking water, for 24 hours--then it would happen again.
Monday AM Dr. Walden gave her fluids and an anti-inflammatory to see if we could calm her slightly distended stomach. The plan was, if she didn't improve in 24 hours, we'd discuss another injection or X-ray.
Well, she was holding her own, no more vomiting Monday night, ears cool, alert--water, no food still. When she didn't eat Tuesday, and her breathing seemed harder, I called and talked with the doc--we agreed, if she evened out again, I'd bring her in AM, if not, within the hour.
Labored breathing stopped completely, so I continued to watch. She's such a bird weight, I didn't want to stress her (they didn't even cut her toenails while she was in, to avoid stress) but by 10:30 pm she was sitting in the cat box mouth breathing, and had vomited a 50 cent piece of foam.
A cat's stomach and intestines can become so large they crowd out her other organs. Her stomach had become twisted, and the rib cage was slightly distorted, implying possibly a tumor, but not showing up on the X-ray (common not to show up--the twist is more common to dogs.) Surgery prognosis was 25% for survival and good quality of life. I could not do that to her, just because I did not want to let go.
She was my princess, my Dorian Gray, who reached 14 untouched by time--only since we moved did she seem smaller, frailer, less interested in life. Sometimes compared to the boys, she was almost aloof in her rare displays of affection--but she dug in with her claws, and made her own place in my heart. Fourteen and a half years together, most of them good. My Ex picked her out, the runt of the litter--but she was a sweetheart, and she wanted to stay with me.
I think animals are given to us to learn to love and to lose--but there is nothing easy about it. And it doesn't get any easier each time.
Yes, I'm still cremating cats and keeping the ashes. Eventually I intend to bury them at my summer cottage, so they will have the Michigan coast to enjoy forever--if my own wish for cremation is carried out. Otherwise, in my casket I shall be surrounded by cat ashes, to confound some future archeologist....
The end of a very long week. More when there's strength.
We didn't have a lot of warning. Blood tests two weeks ago showed a .4 weight loss and respiratory problems, which seemed to be allergies. Only a slight gamma globulin problem, explained most likely by the allergies/asthma. Suddenly, she was vomiting bile and foam Friday night--we thought because of the steroid, or because we'd gone back to a small amount of meat in her diet. Then, she'd be normal, if quiet, and still drinking water, for 24 hours--then it would happen again.
Monday AM Dr. Walden gave her fluids and an anti-inflammatory to see if we could calm her slightly distended stomach. The plan was, if she didn't improve in 24 hours, we'd discuss another injection or X-ray.
Well, she was holding her own, no more vomiting Monday night, ears cool, alert--water, no food still. When she didn't eat Tuesday, and her breathing seemed harder, I called and talked with the doc--we agreed, if she evened out again, I'd bring her in AM, if not, within the hour.
Labored breathing stopped completely, so I continued to watch. She's such a bird weight, I didn't want to stress her (they didn't even cut her toenails while she was in, to avoid stress) but by 10:30 pm she was sitting in the cat box mouth breathing, and had vomited a 50 cent piece of foam.
A cat's stomach and intestines can become so large they crowd out her other organs. Her stomach had become twisted, and the rib cage was slightly distorted, implying possibly a tumor, but not showing up on the X-ray (common not to show up--the twist is more common to dogs.) Surgery prognosis was 25% for survival and good quality of life. I could not do that to her, just because I did not want to let go.
She was my princess, my Dorian Gray, who reached 14 untouched by time--only since we moved did she seem smaller, frailer, less interested in life. Sometimes compared to the boys, she was almost aloof in her rare displays of affection--but she dug in with her claws, and made her own place in my heart. Fourteen and a half years together, most of them good. My Ex picked her out, the runt of the litter--but she was a sweetheart, and she wanted to stay with me.
I think animals are given to us to learn to love and to lose--but there is nothing easy about it. And it doesn't get any easier each time.
Yes, I'm still cremating cats and keeping the ashes. Eventually I intend to bury them at my summer cottage, so they will have the Michigan coast to enjoy forever--if my own wish for cremation is carried out. Otherwise, in my casket I shall be surrounded by cat ashes, to confound some future archeologist....
The end of a very long week. More when there's strength.