The even shorter goodbye - Skippy 2009-2026

Back in April we lost Skippy.

When we first moved down here, I realized his teeth probably should have been cleaned before we left. They weren't horrible, but it was one of those things I didn't really think about. I was a little more focused on Xena (who did get a dental before we left) and by the time I got to thinking about it, all there really wasn't enough time on the schedule to get them both done.

As I said, they weren't horrible, but time passed while we were in limbo.

When we moved to where we are now, I found a vet and started the process of getting them taken care of. By this time I noticed a bit of reluctance to eat harder foods. I had taken him to the vet (as evidenced by a previous post) and wasn't thrilled with their set up. So I took him to a second one. The first one noticed a heart murmur. The second one did not, but he was with me the entire exam. I had a kitty with a heart murmur before (Em) and I know hers really only showed up when she was stressed out. I figured it wasn't bad, and his blood work looked good, so I scheduled the dental.

It was waiting for that appointment that I was offered a job at a different clinic, so I cancelled that appointment and brought Skippy to the new one for the cleaning. In the pre-sedation exam, the heart murmur was back. I had a long conversation with the vet and he was recommending a whole bunch of tests and imaging, but that would mean a long wait to get his teeth cleaned. Since he was already having issues with food, I discussed that with the vet and asked him if he would be willing to move forward.. because what was the point of finding out what was going on with his heart if he wasn't eating well.

The vet understood my concerns and we agreed to move forward with the surgery. He came through it like the champ he was.

I only mention this, because this heart murmur was new.; I knew my boy was getting old, but I so didn't want to see it.

Xena was still his constant shadow. She loved that boy to an unreasonable level, and for the most part he put up with it. Occasionally, he would put his foot on her head as if to say "stop it" and all I could feel coming off her was her glee that he was touching her.

After the surgery I saw them sitting closer and closer. Not sure if she won him over or if was just too tired of trying to find a place she wouldn't follow him.

But as the months went on, I had the feeling something wasn't right. I had been giving him fluids once a week or so - because elderly kidneys like fluids - but I wanted to make sure that things still looked good. The exam went well, nothing was obvious, no masses, nothing on the lab work, his kidneys were stable. I figured I was being paranoid.

But one night in April I was in bed, just falling asleep, when I heard a noise. It sounded like either a cat fell off the cat tree or tried to jump up and couldn't make it. It took me a minute for my brain to process what it heard and wake me up, get me out of bed and turn the light on. Skippy was at the base of the tree. He seemed okay, but something just felt off. I observed him for a while and was about to call it a one off when he seemed to have some sort of seizure.

It was not one in the traditional sense. He was fully aware, but it was like he could no longer control his legs. It lasted a few minutes and it completely freaked me out.

I do what I always do when I am concerned about cats, I offered food. He did not want it. Not that surprising, as he was never really food motivated. He got up and walked away, seemed like himself.. so I decided to watch him a little while longer and I was sitting in the living room reading a book when I heard what sounded like cat feet scrambling on the hard floor.

Skippy had wandered off, so I didn't see what happened, but once again, he was with it.. but I could tell he was not happy about his feet not doing what he wanted them to. Since I couldn't be sure the noise I heard was him, I opted to watch some more. Sure enough, another half hour later, another incident.

Each episode only lasted a minute or two.. it was VERY weird.. I had no idea if this was something that I *could* wait until morning (it was Friday night) or if this was a "go to the vet now" sort of thing. I had woken up the Catman to discuss what he thought. Unfortunately, he was scheduled to fly out in the morning, so it was a pretty tense conversation. When Skippy had another episode, we decided to just go.

Unfortunately, the clinic was pretty busy. It took way too long (I am sure in reality it wasn't that long, but I was stressed and I didn't have access to my cat) to get to a vet to see what they recommended.

Unfortunately, she had no idea what was going on. He continued to have short episodes and she also called them seizures, but said they were totally a-typical as he was conscious through the whole thing. He never lost control of his bladder or bowels, he was simply frustrated that he could not make his legs work the way he wanted during that time. We discussed what could be causing it and what could be done for each and every option if we decided to go for more testing to figure it out. None of them were good, and he was having episodes so frequently that I could not in good conscious ask him to put up with it any longer. He probably wasn't in pain, but his brain deciding to make his legs flail every hour or so wasn't good.

She brought him to us and we sat with him a good long while. By the time we said goodbye it was morning.

Xena has seemed to take his passing in stride. Occasionally over these months, I have gotten the impression that she wonders what I did to him, but that could easily be my reading into things.

Skippy developed a URI as a kitten (in fact, that is the only reason we adopted him) and every couple of days to once a week he would sneeze and produce gobs of snot. Mostly they stayed on his face and he just cleaned them off himself, but occasionally it would hit a wall. I did my best over the years to keep them clean, but I would randomly find clear indications that he sat there and sneezed. He would often do it at the top of the cat tree, so six feet up on the wall I would find spots to clean. About a week before he passed I had just covered the wall behind the cat tree with contact paper to make it easier. Taking that down was super hard.. finding snot above where I put the paper.. well - water works inducing.. Even now there are a few spots I should clean up but.. yeah. Even the headboard is covered with a sheet because of him. I should take it off.. but I haven't.

From the time he was a full grown cat he was very stoic. When he had wants or needs he would just sit near you and look at you and wait for you to do the right thing... whether that was feed him or move your arm so he could snuggle up in bed with you. I rarely heard him make a peep. His meow was adorable when he decided to share it. To this day I remember the energy he had as a kitten. I used to take him outside on a harness and leash, but he was so full of go that I was afraid he would break free or hurt himself trying to run after something.

When we moved to NC, we were in a small apartment, so I started taking him out for walks around the complex. I put a walking harness on him and a leash and he would appreciate getting away from Xena and eating grass. He would go out, find the very first patch of grass and eat it like a cow.. which he would then promptly vomit up, walk around for a good warm bit of rock or concrete to roll around on, then find some more grass and eat some more before finding another warm bit to lay on. When we bought the house he would ask to go out, but that happened less and less often. I don't know if it was because it wasn't as warm in the months before April or if whatever caused his end was making him less interested in being adventurous. He did ask, we did go, but he would almost immediately come back in after eating some grass. I will never know what took him, I suppose in the end it doesn't matter.


I miss him.. so much.

We lost Fleurp and Twee within two weeks of each other (and pretty major TFK news)

 

This post is breaking my heart.. If your heart is too sensitive for Fleurp and Twee's story, you can scroll down to the last paragraph where it says "Major News" which I put in bold.

Fleurp:
Earlier this year, Fleurp was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, so we were giving her medication twice a day to help with that. Her levels weren't going down well so we had a medication increase. She is not an easy cat to tend to as she had many opinions and all of them told her that she absolutely positively did not need my help. She hated when I shaved her each spring to help manage her anemia and she hated it when I started giving her fluids every other week or so as she was old and her kidneys could use the help.. She would react like I was biting her and fight to get away. Even trimming her claws was often an exercise in how much I could do before she lost her patience with me.. (most of the time I got them all done, but not always)

She changed when we moved out of Maine. She was a social cat before, but in the years since moving here she separated herself from us most of the time. In the first house we moved to, she almost never left the mud room/kitchen. She rarely came down the hall to go to bed with us.. Her world became very small.  When we moved into our current house, 90% of her life was the kitchen or living room windows (the two rooms are barely separated with a double door arch way).  She seemed happy and totally content. She liked it when we catered to her desires and gave her "candy bars" often standing on the island demanding them.

She spent 10 years becoming anemic once or twice a year. Mostly in the spring but occasionally in the fall. We aren't sure why but she would have a very dramatic shed from winter to summer and I know a lot of fur can impact nutrient absorption (which is why we did what we could to shave her so she consumed less) but it wasn't perfect. She still had issues.  I knew she would most likely not make it to 20+ years, but I never guessed that her thyroid levels would damage her heart.

It started with diarrhea that was gross and smelly, she stopped eating. I took her in for an exam and tests and more bloodwork. Her liver was seriously compromised. My vet suspected her heart was an issue. I took her home to try to fix what we could but we couldn't. I took her back to the vet (on July 11th), thinking there was more that we could do to pull her though this, but after an exam, it was clear she was suffering. We considered taking her to a specialist for further diagnostics in hopes of finding more answers that we could treat, but knowing Fleurp's willingness to bite, her hatred of traveling and being poked and prodded, and the only slim chance there was a better answer, we opted to let her go.

Was it the "right" call? I have no idea.. but it was one made with a whole lot of love.. we wanted to do right by her.. and we felt it was the right decision at the time, and that is what matters, that is what I hold on to.

Twee: 
Twee does not do well with changes to The Crew. Her first loss was Emmy. She was a young girl then and hardier, and there were many other cats for her to hang out with, but you could tell she spent some time being lost. She and Ollie never really got along (he was far too grumpy for her simple nature) so his passing wasn't as hard. He had been the ruler of The Crew so everyone was a bit lost when he left us, but we didn't notice anything specific with her. When Jack passed, Twee became quite despondent. She ate, but not nearly enough and we almost lost her too. We ended up taking her to an emergency facility, where she spent the weekend (and a lot of money) before she was well enough to come home. 

When Fleurp passed, I had been saying for years that Twee wasn't going to be with us much longer. She was 18, 19, 20 years old and had stage two and then three kidney disease. Before Fleurp started with the diarrhea I noticed that Twee was losing weight and I really didn't like how she was looking so I took her to the vet for some bloodwork to see if there was anything else that might be done. I was kinda hoping it was her thyroid.. but it wasn't. Her kidneys just couldn't do their job and she was feeling miserable.  I tried antinausea and appetite stimulant but it didn't really help all that much. (Sadly, pilling her diminished her quality of life.. with the fluids I know that this life style wasn't that sustainable) and I tried to prep my husband for her eventual end. He was in complete denial. I'm not sure which was worse, Twee at 20 or Kit at 9..  When Fleurp passed, Twee really started to go down hill. I pulled out every single thing I could think of.. 

He wanted to try more things, but I had given it my last ditch effort. I said we could try for a second opinion and he glommed on to that so hard but I explained the chances were that we would put her through more stress to potentially get a short amount of time with her. In the end, he realized that it was time. Thankfully my vet lives right near by and was willing to come to the house.

While we both appreciate not being serenaded by Twee singing opera at 11pm and 3am on a regular basis, they are both missed terribly.  Not only did we lose both cats within two weeks of each other, but going from five cats to three was quite dramatic. 

And to top it all off, we are in the midst of a major life change. The Catman is being transferred from VT to NC. This is something that has been bandied about for a couple of months. What is horrible is that we were so incredibly worried when we moved from ME to this area because Kit was absolutely horrible at traveling by car.. even a 10 minute ride would make her drool horribly for hours. She was a tiny cat and it was really worrisome. When she developed cancer and passed away within a week of diagnosis, part of me was relieved that we didn't have that added stress. Her situation was clear cut. She had a cancerous growth that was incompatible with life. Her inability to travel hindered our ability to get her additional care. I worried about such a huge move with two elderly and medically fragile kitties and wondered what we were going to do.  Part of me yells at myself for "giving up too easily" because of the real potential of moving 12 hours away and not wanting to put either of them through that.  I am sure in time I will forgive myself for making two pretty clearly correct decisions because on another level I'm relieved I don't have that added stress of moving them, but I don't think it will be any time soon.

Major news:
We are going to Raleigh NC for about six months while he is in training, so we are looking for a place to live. We are going to rent a place while he is getting up to speed and then we are going to look for a home and move to Charlotte where his work wants him. This means some serious down sizing and renting a storage unit so we don't have to get rid of EVERYTHING and have to rebuy it in a few months. I am downsizing a lot of my crafting supplies and what not.. it is very very painful for me. I am getting rid of a LOT of my foster supplies since I won't be fostering next year unless he trains quickly and we get into a home faster.  I'm getting rid of a lot of my own cat things because I own far fewer cats and don't see us adding any for at least a year (see the last unless).  A twelve hour move to a two bedroom apartment is a far cry from a 2 hour move to a three (plus) house with a full basement and huge amount of storage (first house - second house had more of both things).  As someone who has attached a lot of emotions to the things I have chosen to own, letting so much go is a really painful process. I am working on giving away what I can't sell, sell what I can, and hopefully it will pare us down enough to be comfortable. but going from an 11 room house to a two bedroom apartment.. yeah.. ouch

Muffin 2002-2019

Muffin's time on earth has come to an end. I have broken into a million pieces and am in the process of putting myself back together, which is not easy as most of these edges were still sharp and broken from losing Jack.

Losing Jack so suddenly I swore that losing them slowly was much better, but it is an absolute bear to go through.

Muffin started going downhill back in May when I opted to have the growth/cyst on the back of her ear removed. I wonder how much time that cost me at times, but I fall back on the fact that it was going to totally impact her quality of life because it was growing and I could see it becoming a serious problem for her and draining it was not an option - as it actually drained on its own once and it grew back almost immediately.

I was able to nurse her through that and she had some good days and some bad days, but her kidneys were failing and there was nothing that could be done for that. Her blood work said she had been dealing with it for years but it did not slow her down until the end. She bravely faced muscle wasting and arthritis, and she continued to rule over life at Casa de Gato until Thanksgiving.

It was at that time that I knew the end was near. If it hadn't been the holiday I might have scheduled the appointment then and set her free of her body then, but I couldn't. I was selfish. I did everything I could think of to improve her quality of life and then some, and somehow, someway, we did it.. we had one last Christmas together.

It was completely bittersweet.. I was able to cuddle her and love on her and tell her what a wonderful kitty she was, but she was so tired and she wanted to lay in her hammock and not with me for most of the day. I offered her food often, I gave her many treatments with the Assisi Lounge, but she had become anemic and there was very little life left for her.

She had a few good days, and I was very hopeful we would see the new year.. but that was not to be.

There might have been more things we could have tried, more meds, more treatments, more.. but she was tired.. her life was little more than sleep and being medicated and I loved her too much to make her live that life..

Even at the end.. every single cell in my body wanted to tell the vet to go away (we were lucky enough to have an at-home euthanasia) but I knew, I knew.. it was time.

There is so much I can't face right now. Walking up the stairs to go to bed the first time was almost impossible because for the last month I was either carrying her up with me or she was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I've rearranged my office so hopefully, that won't be as hard..

The other kitties seem to be adjusting okay. She had been so sick for so long I think they more than knew..

I miss her so fiercely.

She was a force. She was the most willful kitten I have fostered, the most determined, the most set in her course of action. She knew her mind and she was going to get you to know it too. I was her human far more than she was my cat.. and I loved her for that.

In Star Trek, Klingons have a tradition of bellowing at the sky when a warrior dies to warn those in Sto'Vo'Kor that a great warrior is coming. Somehow that made up tradition seemed to fit..

oh how I miss her..

April's Kittens: Autumn, Tajiri, Azizi 4/10/19-4/21/19

After losing Fletcher, the rest of the kittens seemed to be going downhill. I was not strong enough to watch them die one by one so I contacted the rescue and asked that they take them. It was several hours before they left and the kittens once again rallied and I started second guessing letting them go, wondering more than once if they didn't have their best chance here.

But I know that Fletcher rallied a couple of times, and each time it got harder and harder to come back from the back slide. I knew how hard it was on me to watch him die. I hated to pass that burden on to someone else, but I was getting emotional over looking at products at the grocery store, so I also knew that it needed to be done.

I know many people think "oh, fading kitten syndrome" but I want you to know that there isn't an actual thing called FKS. That is a catch all term for several health issues that kittens routinely face that can cause death. It might be as simple as being chilled or missing a meal and having low blood glucose to as complicated as an infection or even birth defects like a liver shunt.

It is my belief that the URI that they were exposed to from April or even something at the emergency clinic (absolutely no blame there) caused an infection that caused their organs to fail. At the end their stomachs were not emptying well and they were quite fussy. I hoped against hope that it was just gas or something else that was fixable, but looking back I am going to say that it was never fixable. All there was available to these kittens was the few short days of life.

When I lose kittens I try very hard not to focus on what was lost but on what they had when they were here. None of us is promised a long life, and if that life is three days or three decades we are never ready for them to go. All we can do is give them our best, love them and make them happy. April's kittens had that to the best of my ability..

My only regret is not having a photo of April standing up on the cage meowing at me to give her back her kitten when I was tube feeding it. When I initially started caring for her kittens she tried very hard to take them back from me. Over the days, I think she realized that I was helping and was okay with it as long as they weren't screaming. Sometimes I had to make them scream (inserting a needle for fluids) and she would jump up and demand I either make it stop or give them back. If I didn't stop the kitten from screaming she would run to the toilet in an attempt to get to the top of the cage where I was working (toilet to sink to cage) but I would assure her that the kitten was fine and she would get him back shortly, and she would stand next to me, looking up with her sleek black head and her big wide eyes and her mouth slightly open so the little peaks of her snow white teeth peeked out. It was so adorable..

Anyway. My goal was to name the kittens after giraffes in the wild and to highlight conservation efforts of giraffe while they were with me (and introduce you to Raffe 2.0) but that is not meant to be. I might do that at some point, but now it only seems fitting to give them names of the famous giraffe April's offspring:
Autumn (female, b. 2013) Green Collar
Tajiri (male, b. 2017)  Blue collar
Azizi (male, b. 2019) Red collar.

Fletcher 4/10/19-4/19/19

Last night, the littlest kitten slipped quietly away while I was warming up a face cloth to try to clean off his face and attempt to alleviate some of his congestion.

(a photo from a few days ago)

While this little kitten started off being feisty and a bit of a mischief maker, sadly his exposure to April's cold and the lack of care from her at the very beginning was too much for him to overcome.

He was a climber, he was not content to stay where I put him even though there was a source of heat there while he waited for his siblings to be fed. He would only stop climbing once they were all in that basket with him. He was not a fan of either collar he had. The eclinic gave him a yellow collar made of vet wrap initially and he got that off pretty quick. I had paper collars that I was afraid to close too tightly for fear of growth. While his siblings were just fine with theirs, This little boy got his foot caught in his so many times that I finally took it off altogether. I laughed at his determination, I admired his spirit. I thought if any of them had a chance to overcome what life had thrown at him, it was this little boy.

Life became harder and harder for this one. I reviewed all of my data, everything I knew. I used every trick at my disposal. I had to hand feed him from almost the beginning and when he could no longer do that I tube fed him. Each feeding, no matter how warm I made the milk, led to him being chilled and he would take longer and longer to warm up. His mouth was gummy so I gave him fluids to combat dehydration, and it made little difference. Two days ago I wondered if it wouldn't be kinder to let him go instead of putting him through this. That morning he made a nice turnaround, put on weight, was looking plumper and was more responsive, didn't chill as easily.. I thought that the antibiotics were making a difference and that with time he had hope. Last night changed that. Despite being full of belly and warm of body, and loved fiercely by myself and April.

***

Before April, actually, even before Hedy, I was feeling a little underused. I have had a lot of experience with bottle babies and sick babies and I wondered if I was ever going to use that experience again. Being in New England, there isn't the overwhelming crush of homeless cats that there used to be so a lot of my fosters over the past few years have been healthy. I couldn't tell you the last time I bottle fed a litter of kittens (although I'm sure I could search the blog to find it - which is one reason I'm keeping this blog). I wasn't really complaining. I knew full well the pain both of those conditions brings to kittens and to the soul who only wants to save them all. But that thought was fresh in my mind a few days ago when this little one took a turn for the worse. I remembered that day back in 1988 when I was watching the soap opera I became hooked on because my mother watched it: "Guiding Light"  One of my favorite characters "Fletcher" was finally happy. He had a wife he loved, she loved him, there was no one trying to break them up.. things were going well. Mauve, his wife, came to him in one scene and talked about flying off for work for a few days and gushed at him how happy she was and how wonderful life was. My response to this outpouring of affection in my adolescent mind was "well, she is going to die" and low and behold she did. Ever since I have jokingly referred to too much of a good thing as "Soap Opera Syndrome" where if everything is going all too well, you just start expecting things to go bad. I don't do it as a pessimistic thing, only as a "well, you should probably keep an eye out for trouble" sort of thing. No wearing rose-colored glasses if you will.

And this is why I have chosen to name this little one Fletcher.

***

The other three were doing pretty well until last night. The one that was originally sporting the blue-collar needed a little extra help nursing (supplement feeding) and was sneezing regularly. His eyes opened .. um.. a while ago? (I have so lost track of time) (heck, I am missing a lot of milestones here being so involved with keeping them alive) which seems like a good thing. The one in the red collar, the strongest, has also started sneezing.. I am hoping this is the last of the bad news.. 

Thank you - missing Jack

I would like to thank those of you who have reached out to me after Jack died. It has been incredibly hard. I knew it would be, I had tried to rationalize it for myself for years, telling myself that when he dies I would go through hell and that was okay, but actually going through it has been harder than I imagined.

I've been complaining about the kittens being horribly boring because I wanted to foster for the distraction. I really shouldn't complain about boring because boring is healthy and happy.

Time will ease the pain, I know, because it did with Em.

The obnoxiously short goodbye - Freakinly Awesome Jack 2002-2018

I want to start off this post by being horribly callous and possibly even mean by saying none of you could possibly understand how shattered Jack's loss has left me. I know many of you have had beloved pets and were shattered by their loss, and I can't know how, but I only know how I feel. I do not want to diminish your grief in the least. So please take this as my brain being addled by grief..

I have loved this cat more than I can possibly express, more than any other. He wormed his way into my heart the second I met him and he stayed there, curled up in a ball purring contentedly, ever since - and for always. I always dreaded this day. I knew it was going to come one day, but I was hoping, stupidly, that it was a decade away.

I will never do him justice trying to explain him. Despite what the vet said upon his initial exam, he was an incredibly remarkable cat (the vet said "he is unremarkable - meaning that there was nothing to remark on during the exam nothing wrong to keep an eye on).  He had demands, requests, and he constantly asked us questions in his whiny howl of a meow that I would give anything to hear again.

Jack had an uncanny ability to be where I needed him to be, and not necessarily where I wanted him to be. I was unemployed when I fostered him so I used to travel with him quite a bit. We took him out for ice cream, I took him to visit the Catman at work. This made him an incredibly outgoing and friendly cat that believed that everyone loved him.. and they did.

I fear that his last few weeks were 'less than' because I was emotionally distracted by the death of Graham. I did my best to care for him. I knew something wasn't right with him because he had been licking litter and peeing outside the box. When we did a senior panel we found he had an infection and was a bit anemic. I was given antibiotics for the infection but nothing came of the anemia. It wasn't dramatically worrying so I thought I would bring it up on the follow up for his UTI and we could address his symptoms and issues then. There had been some confusion about his final wellness exam as I had asked for an exam for blood work and the front desk scheduled me for blood work only so I was a little rattled and didn't ask all of my questions - again, I thought they could wait.

Then Graham happened.

I was trying to tell if he was feeling okay, trying to observe his attitudes and his demeanor. He stumbled once while walking on the bed which freaked me out but he didn't actually fall and righted himself and continued on like nothing happened. I could tell something was off. I thought it might be his urinary issue. I thought it might be kidney issues since things were headed south in that department. I thought it might be his arthritis that prevented him from "leaving work" and coming to bed when we went to bed at night (he always made his way up eventually and we snuggled almost up to the last) I had no indication that things were going to go south so quickly.

I took this photo on Tuesday maybe an hour or two before things went down hill. We sat here at "work" and I was working on my personal computer. I was kissing his head frequently. I was thinking that the upcoming Friday I would take both of these kitties in: Jack for a follow up and Muffin for a senior exam. He was laying there with me. He stood up and shook his head every so slightly and sniffled and my world shattered.  There were blood spatters on my computer and my hand.

I have had two other cats develop nose bleeds. Em developed nasal cancer. Kit who developed throat cancer. I knew our time was coming to an end. I was hoping I'd have a year like I had with Em. I emailed the vet and asked for the first available.

Jack was freaked by my reaction so he wandered off. I wanted to see if he was willing to eat. Jack was never one to turn down a meal. We offered him some canned food up in my husband's office and he ate some of it but not all. He parked himself there and did not leave.

It hurt that he didn't want to hang out with me, but considering my panicked state of mind I wasn't surprised. He was still bleeding a little.. just a few drops an hour it appeared.. and we found blood droplets in the water bowl and where he was sitting.

I tried calming down and hanging out with him but I failed miserably. He kept walking away from me. Wanting him to rest and hopefully recover, I went to bed. I found he had vomited up the food he had just eaten. I didn't see any blood in the vomit so we cleaned it up and went to sleep.

I woke up with Jack in the bed, licking my nose, purring, happy.. I had hope.

I took him to the vet, we did an exam, we found a mass that could not be explained. I took him home on supportive care hoping that he would be okay. He was not. I came home and offered him food, he wasn't interested. I ran to the kitten room to give him some dry food - his beloved dry food - and I got him to eat a few bites.

I wanted to give time for things to work. He started hanging out in my husband's bathroom. I tried to give him things to be comfortable. It broke me that he didn't want to be with me. Muffin and Fleurp spent some time with him.

He was not eating, he was not drinking that I knew. I was worried. I researched and reached for straws. Dr. Lisa was incredibly kind listening to all of my questions and possible suggestions of what might help him. Realizing that surgery on a mass in his abdomen was not going to have a great prognosis, I wanted to find something outside of that which would give us some time.

I started prenisolone and hoped.

He did not visit me Thursday morning; my heart broke. I got the kitten webcam so I could watch him and realized pretty quickly that it was time. He was not sleeping, he was moving every ten or twenty minutes to try to get more comfortable. Several times I heard him actually groan.

Every time I would go and visit him to give him meds, or fluids, or force feed some baby food into him, or just love on him he would basically try to get away from me. He didn't want any more. He didn't want me to fight for him. I made the appointment.

Could we have gotten him through this if I had given the pred more time to work or got more food into him? Maybe, but at some point and some point pretty soon he would end up exactly as he was and I could not face the idea of doing this to him again. To try would be the most selfish thing I could think of - and yes I seriously considered it anyway.. I have always been a firm believer in a week too early than a minute too late. It was my second to last gift to give him. My grief is my last.

I had my husband spend time with him because he wanted nothing to do with me. My husband hated that I say it that way, but it is true. My energy was on a level Jack could not handle.

This has broken me. I had no time to get used to it, to be okay with it enough to be there for him. This is why I get seriously pissy when people try to guilt others into "being there for the pet" at the end.. there are times it is the absolute wrong decision.

I was very fortunate that the vet does final house calls and was available that night. I can not express how fortunate and thankful I was.

Jack's final photo

The vet found him in the bathroom. She gave him sedative to make him sleep. She asked us to tell her about him which I can't explain to you how much that helped. To hear my husband tell stories of his youth.. to remember him being healthy and happy..

He had gotten up and came closer to me while we were doing that as the sedative took effect. When he was out, we took him to a more convenient location and I got to hold him and kiss his head and drench his ears with my tears. When the vet left, I sobbed. I pulled it together and we went to bed and watched a movie. As is routine, I like to do a head count before bed, I always look for kitties in order.. Jack, Muffin, Eli, Twee, Kit, Fleurp, Skippy.  Before when Em and Ollie were still around it was Em, Ollie, JackMuffinEli.. kinda like LMNOP when you are saying the alphabet.  It is almost two years since Kit's passing and I still have a hard time skipping her in the routine.. but last night I could not start with Muffin.. I kept trying and trying, but it was always Jack.. I saw Muffin and Eli so I just kept going but I kept throwing Kit's name in the mix and then from then on I simply could not get the names right or in order..

And then there were five..

***

Maybe one day I'll gather up the strength to get through a Jack retrospective of just how freakin awesome he was.. because he was freakin awesome. but since I still haven't done one for Kit, I can't imagine it will be any time soon. Even now I am typing through the tears.

***

None of the kitties wanted to sit with me during the movie.. My energy was still so wrong.  My heart actually hurt, not in the emotional broken heart sort of way, but in a I strained a muscle sort of way.. When I finally drifted off to sleep Muffin came around for some snuggles. She woke me up and I tried to snuggle with her. She always enjoys snuggling with me but my energy was still "wrong" and she didn't want to be with me. She sat on her hammock and whined a bit and then settled down.

I'm grieving. I cry. I wail... I am eating copious amounts of yummy food and I am doing obnoxious things to my kitties like grabbing them and covering them with kisses - which only Jack ever appreciated. I am watching the Doctor Donna..

I will get through this, but I am basically in shock. I will eventually be fine, but right now I can't people. I am sorry I have been absent from social media and I've been staying away from email. If you want to reach me, leave a message, I'll respond when I'm ready.. Maybe Monday, possibly before.

If you want to make a donation in honor of Jack, NHKittens.com would be an awesome place. As Jack was a foster (my first fail) it seems only fitting. If you would like to send me a card (I have been asked for it) my address is PO Box 554 Grantham NH 03753. If you met Jack and want to share a story about him that you remember, I would love it. If you want to share your favorite Jack story that I've shared with you, I would love that too.

There is a kitty waiting for me, she is pregnant, and I have left word I am ready. The distraction will do me good. Being needed will do me good. Time will do me good.


THE LOVING ONES

My beloved Jack is not doing well

This was one post I was dreading writing.

Jack has been exhibiting micro signs that he wasn't feeling well. I had the feeling he has been uncomfortable for a while but they were nothing I could put my finger on. Each time I saw them I would "check in" with him and he responded exactly as he always has.. bright-eyed, willing to eat, attention seeking, even playing on his on occasionally.

I noticed the other day he deliberately walked into the litter box and licked the litter. I know this to be a sign of anemia and planned to take him to the vet if he did it again. We waited and nothing.  Then one day he walked in with litter on his nose. Did he eat that? or did he just get too close sniffing? I wasn't sure. I knew an exam would be several hundred dollars and until the other house sells (which the closing is next week) money was very tight. I was totally willing to spend it if I had something specific as a symptom..

Then he developed a UTI a little over a week ago. This was something.  He was due to have his thyroid rechecked as well, so I scheduled an appointment. Between the time of the schedule and the appointment, he vomited up a lot of water, some litter and little pieces of a plastic bag that was being used as a trash liner.

Well, he was already going in, and he was still eating, so I just made note of it and meant to tell it to the vet.. yes, I forgot.

They did a senior panel on him and found the UTI. They put him on antibiotics. I received a copy of the blood work and saw he was anemic and I emailed and asked about it, but it was the exact same time as Graham, so my question wasn't responded to. Since he was improved on the antibiotic and seemed to be doing better - again, in a non-specific way - I figured I'd talk about it on his follow up appointment.

Now, also during this time, he has been spending more and more time in my "office" hanging out with his head on my laptop. I thought it might be the heat, so I moved the heated bed to where he liked to lay and turned it on, but he refused to lay on it. Since we are still pretty new to this house, and the bedroom is upstairs from my office and the kitchen, I thought he just was reluctant to walk upstairs to come to bed. I was going to talk to the vet about possible pain meds in case it was arthritis.

I'm serious.. there was nothing one could hang a hat on to say he was not doing well, but there were a bunch of micro symptoms that could easily be chalked up to old age. He has thyroid issues, he has kidney issues.  He has been shivering more but not a lot and the first time I ran him to the vet for that she chalked it up to his being old.

And then there was a stumble.

When his antibiotics were almost over he was walking in the bed and stumbled. We have a ton of blankets and a thick mattress pad so I wondered if he just stepped weird. He continued to walk across the bed and no other stumble.  Then the day after, there was another, smaller one.

Is stumbling on an uneven surface an issue? I have no idea. We were due for a followup. I wanted him to be off antibiotics for a few days to make sure we had taken care of the issue. I was planning a follow up with him and an exam for Muffin and thinking that Friday might be a good day to do that.

And then there was the blood.

It was nine pm and he was sitting next to me at work. I was cleaning up my email and watching tv. He stood up and stretched a little and then sniffled and shook his head. Totally normal stuff, right? well, the three droplets of blood that landed on my computer and the one on my hand said differently.

I immediately had a breakdown. A huge ugly cry that made my husband extremely nervous.

You see, the two other nosebleeds in my cats were the precursors to finding cancer and their deaths. Emmy due to nasal cancer months later and Kit with a tumor on her throat that advanced in weeks.

I got an appointment for the next morning (yesterday) and got an exam. They were extremely kind to me. They let me in on an emergency appointment and I was there for over an hour.  During the initial exam, he seemed okay. There was no deformity on his face that would lead to nosebleeds. We talked about what it could be. His kidneys were starting to show signs of his age and his dealing with thyroid issues, but they never threw up warning flags; now with the anemia, it might be a sign of progression and that could be the cause of the nosebleeds due to low platelets. She asked about vomiting and I mentioned that someone had vomited up their breakfast but I didn't know who and Jack clearly vomited last night after the nosebleed but we didn't see it. He only bled a few drops at a time, but it lasted for several hours. He left several drops of blood around the water bowl and several drops of b

She did a full body exam and Jack reacted when she palpated his kidneys by biting me - well his warning bite of wrapping his teeth around my finger. She believed she felt a mass in his stomach so we took some x-rays.  Unfortunately, they weren't as clear as she would have liked. there is something there.. Her next step would be an ultrasound.

So, we talked about all of the possibilities. She said it could be nothing. It could be anemia from the kidneys and with supportive care, he could recover. She said it could be a mass. If it is a mass even in the best case she doesn't see a great prognosis in these cases. He is sixteen and a half.. He is anemic. He has thyroid issues, his heart murmur is back probably from the anemia. We talked about pred, we talked about different options. We did a CBC to see where his anemia was - if it was stable, progressing, or getting better (not likely as she noticed he was pale) and I took him home to give him fluids, an anti-nausea medication, and wait for the results.

Interestingly, the results came in just as I typed results.. his anemia has progressed.

Jack wouldn't eat after the exam. He went and isolated himself in my husband's office all night. I was expecting him to visit me last night and he didn't.

He got fluids last night. He will get some this morning. I am going to start steroids in hopes of shrinking the tumor and to spur him to eat. If not, we are probably going to look at end of life this weekend..

*big fat sobbing ugly cry*

Do not grieve me, I am still here - a poem

I was laying in bed a while back and I was thinking about how old my kitties are. I was snuggling Muffin and I was grieving losing her, which I know is pointless but I couldn't help it.. when I heard very clearly "But I am still here". This came out of that moment.

Oh, darling, I have such fear,
You are old and you are feeble...

But momma, I am still here.

I worry that one day you will be gone,
You have kidney issues and joint issues...

But momma, I am still here.

Your time is not promised, the end will one day come,
It will hurt and my heart will break..

But momma, I am still here

Saying Goodbye

Well, this was mighty difficult. Actually, the decision was very easy to make but carrying it out was the difficult part.

After I picked Graham up from the vet, I was optimistic. I was told that he was blind but he was navigating the room okay. He was walking around, he ate, I had hope.

He then settled down in the middle of the cold floor. I wanted to give him some comfort so I tried to hold him, he did not want that. This was unlike him. I tried to give him Happy Bear, he did not want that. This was unlike him. I was able to get him on a blanket and hoped that a good night of rest in familiar settings would help. I was exhausted and went to bed.

Because I posted the link, Stella was watching in on the webcam in the morning and saw him have another seizure. I went down post seizure and he was still out of it. I was able to cuddle him until he came around but at that point, he wanted nothing to do with me. He was covered in urine again, so I did my best to dry him off without upsetting him too much.

I went back upstairs to work and kept the camera running on my computer. Two hours later I saw another seizure and it was violent. He was still flailing as I got to him and I tried to keep him as calm as I could.  When it stopped he was once again nonresponsive. He sat there but it was like no one was home. I wrapped him up in a towel and was going to rush him right to the vet but I was pretty certain if I did that I would not see him again. I decided to sit there and hold him for a few minutes as he always enjoyed cuddling and I enjoyed cuddling him. I held him and talked softly to him and kissed his head many times. As he started to come around I knew this moment had ended and he would start insisting he be put down. The Graham I knew and adored was gone.

Even if this was something that he could come back from, would he ever fully come back? I did not know. I just knew that two seizures in two hours was something I could not handle by myself. I took him down to the vet and the techs took him out back while I waited for the vet to be free and the rescue to be contacted. By the time I saw the vet Graham had two more seizures. It was time in my mind. The vet very kindly took the long road to explain why they had come to the conclusion as well. I agreed with her telling her that the decision was the right on and the easy one to come to but most difficult to go through. I was asked if I would like to be with him and that is something I can do so I wanted to.

Despite what others will tell you, if you feel you are unable to be with them at the end do not feel you have to or you do not love them or you are less than. In many cases, the animal isn't aware you are there. There are times that not being there is actually kinder for the animal, especially if they are very sensitive to your moods. 

Graham was not only out of it from the seizures but they sedated him prior to the injection so he had no clue I was there.  I had my hand on his body and could feel his very rapid heartbeat despite the sedation. I held him, I gave him a kiss for myself, for all of you, and one for a safe journey. The whole thing took only moments..

Once he was gone I gave his body one final cuddle.

I will admit a huge part of me wanted to adopt him and not let him go. In not the way I would have preferred, I was able to love and care for him for his entire life.  None of us are promised a long life, but I was able to fill his with love and fun and food.. his life, while short, was great.

Fly Free Abby

In April 2014, I brought home two kitties from the shelter that was diabetic. I had offered to foster Chandler who I met at the shelter with a bum leg and when I went to pick him up Abby had shown up and needed some care as well.

Fortunately, they got along rather well and I fostered them for a while, got them stable, and returned them to the shelter. Chandler was adopted and lived in a home for a while before he was returned to the shelter and then passed away.

Abby sat in a cage for nearly a year and deteriorated. When I realized she hadn't been adopted and was getting cage aggressive, I would go to the shelter to work with her to try to get her walking around. It was not a solution because I worked full time. It took some work, but we were able to get her into HART who has a number of diabetic cats in their care and a robust network of foster homes who were happy to care for them.

Almost a year after she was in my care, she was in theirs. April 2015 was when I got the last update. Occasionally I would see her networked on social media, but I hadn't heard anything in a while.

I received a message a few minutes ago that Abby had been a nice stable foster home and had been doing very well until recently. Earlier this year she was diagnosed with cancer and it progressed to the point where they felt it was in her best interest to let her go today.

My heart breaks at this news. Not only because of her passing, but also for those people who had been caring for her for the past two years. It is always hard to lose a loved one.

Kit; Saying Goodbye

Kit from 2011 

Nov 11, 2007 

Daddy's first cuddle 

The day or the day after she was born May 15th 

I knew losing Kit would be hard, but I didn't realize just how hard it would be. Kit was 100% my husband's cat, as I'm sure you are well aware.. 

She would find use for me when I had broccoli or had a blanket over my lap but, on the whole, she far preferred her favorite human, and I can't say I blame her.

I miss her, I do. I adored her because of how happy she made him. What has been hardest on me though is watching him grieve for her. As an empath, I feel it quite keenly and nothing makes me tear up faster than thinking of things that she will no longer be a part of... like crawling up on his chest to watch Charlie Brown Thanksgiving specials.. (which we were able to do one last time)

Kit's last photo.

Nine years was not nearly enough, but sadly it was what we had. In time, we will be able to smile because it happened but right now it still just hurts.

Her last days were hard. When she was diagnosed with lymphoma, I knew it was going to take her quickly because of how fast it popped up. We did not want her to suffer but we were not willing to let go easily. We had multiple discussions about just when to let her go. How do you tell when a cat who has a large lump on her throat is ready to go? At the time of diagnosis, she was still very much "Kit" and I could have gone a few more weeks before I found out it was going on if I hadn't put my hands on her that day. The vet said three to six months which would put her end of life somewhere in the new year - we hoped. But the more I thought about it, the less sure I was. The prednisolone put weight on her and seemed to make the tumor shrink a bit, so I had ideas that we would easily get through Thanksgiving, but we would have to make a decision after that. I spoke to my husband about it quite a bit in those last few days, preparing him that it was coming.

As the days went on, it became clear it was going to be close. She went off her food but happily ate treats. She was maintaining her weight. Yes, treats are not a balanced and appropriate diet, but it would have gotten us through Thanksgiving if the tumor didn't have a mind of its own.

I had taken a few days off to do things around the house but instead it turned into convalescence care for her. It became more and more apparent that her time was measured in hours and not in days. I wanted to make the appointment for Thursday but the vet didn't have an opening. They had a Friday early afternoon which sadly they had to postpone for a few hours.

The sunset on Thursday.

I wanted to make Kit as happy as I could. I dug out her favorite pillow that we had to put away a few years ago because it had a hole that was causing the pellets inside to fall out. I had such grand plans for making her a new one, I did. I have all of the components in my craft room except the stretchy fabric on the bottom. I looked everywhere.. I thought I had time.

She took to it immediately.

Waiting on Friday

Because she travels poorly, I had plans to give her a sedative and some Pepcid to make the journey easier but the tumor had advanced to the point where giving it to her was one of the most difficult things I've ever done.  When the time came, my husband opted to hold her instead of putting her in a carrier. We drove up and while the sedative helped it was still quite hard on all of us.  Her passing was a simple affair that we both were there for. We brought her favorite green blanket and she opted to lay on the floor.

A single star in the middle of the night's sky leads us home.
Nov 11th, 2016

The Crew adjusted very well to her passing. Skippy and Twee have stepped up to occupy the spot on my husband's chest that has been vacant. Fleurp is sleeping on the bed more often now. Everyone lost an ounce or two because they aren't being over fed (since he insisted on giving her a full portion of food despite her eating far less)

One day..