I Thought He Was a Goner

Anyone who's been reading this blog for a while knows that we have a cat. A very old cat.

On March 24th, I wrote about it being his 18th birthday. Last week, I truly thought his worsening kidney failure had reached a point where he would slip away. 

He has been steadily losing weight for several years, down from 13 pounds to about seven. On Easter Sunday, he appeared more emaciated than ever: his gait was unsteady, and several times he simply just fell over. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be in pain.

I spoke with our vet, and we were in agreement. Doing more tests and treatments will only delay the inevitable and a visit to the clinic would cause this old, old kitty undue stress.  Yet, as the vet put it, death from renal failure can be ugly. We agreed not to interfere unless my kitty needs help getting comfortable, and in that event, we will take whatever measures will be best for him.

I mentioned that other than his arthritic hips, he didn't currently seem to have any sort of pain. The vet suggested I try giving him another steroid shot to help with that. I drove to the clinic (without the cat) and picked up the prefilled syringe.

Every day since I administered the shot of cortisone last week, our little kitty has shown increasing signs of improvement. Today, I can barely serve him enough food to satisfy his (previously non-existent) appetite. He is roaming the house and seems to have a lot more energy. 

I know the day will not be too far off, but thankfully, it's not yet time to say goodbye.

I apologize for it being a week since I have published here. I've been busy giving my cat some extra cuddle time!

They Say Cats Have Nine Lives

I’m (gratefully) convinced our cat has many more than nine.

Today is our cat's 18th birthday and his age is catching up with him.

His skeleton feels bony when I pet him. Sometimes he just sits and stares into place, or lets out pitiful yowls for no apparent reason. His whiskers are often coated with particles of food and his backside with who-knows-what. When he uses his litter box, more often than not anymore, he misses it and body waste and fluids flow down the side. He swings his back hips strangely when he walks, and his gait has become timid from arthritis. He has a funky smell and his fur is rough and patchy.

This feline member of our family has always been ornery and destructive. The veterinarian's office attached a label on his chart, warning all their employees that our cat is “very fractious.” He’s unfriendly (actually quite ferocious) to everyone except my family, and he is a lot of work. 

BUT ––He loves me unconditionally, possibly more than any living creature ever has. I can't imagine life without him.

Our beloved cat turned 18 today, and he’s been a member of our family since he was just 6-weeks old. We adopted him to satisfy my daughter's intense longing for a cat, but it was he and I who formed the strongest bond. Perhaps that's because he became ours on Mother's day. The amount of days and months and years this cat has lived in our house now equals or exceeds that of either of our now-grown children. 

I worry it will soon be time to say goodbye. Will he tell me when he’s ready to go, or will he just slip silently away? 

In the past year or two, I’ve said farewell to this treasured cat multitude of times. I’ve held him and I’ve cried, convinced he wouldn’t make it through the night. On each of those occasions, he proved to me the saying that cats all have nine lives. In his case, we could probably adjust that number upwards to 15, or so.

For years, our kitty’s been on a slew of meds for irritable bowel syndrome and decreased renal function. So far, the prescription food, pills, gels, and injections have been working. We’ve had a few diabetic scares, only to find out diabetes did not cause his problems; instead he suffered from severe urinary tract infections which cleared up with antibiotics. 

Eighteen years seems like a long life for a cat, but it doesn’t feel like enough time to spend with this one. This sentiment seems mutual; though old and frail, our cranky cat still appears to be enjoying life with us. Just when I’m convinced his arthritis badly threatens his mobility, I spy him nimbly getting onto a kitchen counter or teasing our big dog. He seems as happy as he’s ever been, especially when he’s nestled in my lap or stretched out in a ray of sunshine, puddling on the floor.

Our elderly cat’s end-of-life is probably not too far away. But today he’ll get some happy birthday treats as we reminisce and celebrate his life. 

Who knows, if we are lucky enough, perhaps this time next year we’ll be celebrating his birthday when he turns 19. That would be so nice.

Please keep social distancing, wear a mask, wash your hands, get vaccinated, and stay healthy! 😷 This post contains affiliate links. The opinions expressed, however, are entirely my own.

A Love Story

Watching my parents greet each other, after my dad had a successful and uneventful surgery today, was a wonderful way to spend a moment!

Months of pain, and anxiety over the complexity of the surgery  (a surgical revision of a previous hip replacement), dissolved in relief.  My parents have "made the most of every moment" of their 56 years together, and it is heartwarming to know that this surgery will offer an opportunity to resume an active life together.

I will be with my parents throughout the coming week, and unfortunately Internet access is limited in the hospital. Although I hope to keep up with blogging, if I miss a day or two, I am apologizing now!