Last Saturday night, I was the proud owner of two dogs and two kitties. Tonight, I am just a dog owner.
I lost Fraidy cat last Sunday. She was 16. We had managed her renal failure for years through diet and she had been asymptomatic until two weeks ago. Her BUN, creatitine and phosphorous were off the charts. She was uremic and shutting down. We still rallied hope until her body temp dropped about ten degrees and sadly said goodbye.
My Milford cat has been a medical mystery for the last ten months. Countless rounds of antibiotics, probiotics, B12 injections, sub Q fluids and a completely grain free, raw diet. February of last year, I noticed he had dropped a lot of weight. He ended up being hyperthyroid. Managed with meds for the last ten months but he just never got back to 100%. He had malabsorption issues in his intestines and even though he ate very very well, he wasn't able to gain much weight.
I joined the feline hyperthroid, IBD, lymphoma and chronic renal failure yahoo lists and learned far more than any other kitty parent should have to learn.
The last month and a half he's laid on a heating pad to keep warm as he had hardly any body fat left. He lost his appetite when I put Fraidy down and I've struggled to find a food he would eat. I was okay with the thought of syringe feeding until he made it over the hump. I must have tried a dozed different foods and brands.
I was pretty set on euthanizing him yesterday. He couldn't meow anymore and couldn't walk without staggering. We had a good day. It was sunny out and in the mid 50s in Ohio. He had always been a sucker for McDonalds so I made a trip and got some of his favorites. He had 1.5 chicken nuggets, a bit of a McDouble and licked the inside of my mocha caramel frappe. I still remember the caramel he had stuck to his head. lol. Well, I had a change of heart and said that he could live until Monday; I had some new holistic treatments I wanted to try before calling it quits that wouldn't be here until Monday or Tuesday.. I guess I shouldn't have said that.
This was my fb post for Saturday night:
Looks like Milford chose his own way to say goodbye. Came home tonight and he was gone, as in disappeared. He somehow managed to jump off the kitchen counter which has been his home for the last few days, get down the stairs and out the open basement door (beautiful day and foster dog never got the hang of the dog door). We have looked everywhere we could think of inside and out. None of the neighbors have seen him. The dogs did not eat him. We were only gone 3.5 hours.
I'm trying to take solace in the fact that kitties usually crawl off and hide somewhere when sick, hurt or dying. He didn't need my presence to pass (I can't imagine him surviving the night when he was only skin and bones and it's currently 37F with a low of 30F tonight) but I would have really have liked to see him go. He ate McDonalds for lunch with me. Maybe he needed Darrin's chicken nuggets before he could leave.
We had talked about having my vet come out and euthanize him today but then said (as we often have) - you can live another day kitty. We've had "that talk" with Mils a bunch in the last few weeks. He tried "jumping" off the coffee table today and needed help when he collapsed from the rough landing (might have been 24" to the ground, if that). He didn't even have enough energy to step up into the litter box anymore. Most of the time he just sat on his heating pad trying to stay warm.
How in the world did you get outside, little guy? You couldn't even pee without having to take a nap afterwards! We have turned the house upside down looking for you. You are nowhere to be found.
I miss him and wished it could have ended differently. In the matter of less than a week, I have gone from owning two cats to none. This really wasn't the way I wanted you to leave me, Mr Milford. I feel terrible. I don't have anything tangible to remember him by.
And this was todays....
Well, we found him. For a sick kitty, he sure did travel far. Much love and apreciation goes to Darrin for finding him, Jamie, Linda and Darrin for getting him out of where he died, and my second mom, Linda for being there to help me grieve.
Darrin found him in the creek. We're still super shocked that he mustered up enough strength to get off the counter, get down the basement stairs, out the door and shimming under the fence. Then he managed to walk a significant ways down the private drive towards the pond.
My neighbor is the best neighbor ever and she "unofficially adopted me on facebook the other day and declared herself my second mom". When Darrin came in to tell me that he had found him, I grabbed a towel and walked out the door to go get him. I was then instantly hit with a wave of nausea. I couldn't do it. I ran and got my "second mom" and her adult son as Darrin said he was going to probably need help to get him as he was in a hard to reach spot. It was so nice to know where he was.
He did what I didn't have the strength to do.
You go little kitty! I hope you're chasing little bunnies around like you use to do!
