I am no longer living in the house on the lake. I won't go into great detail but I endured a lot of unhappiness from the moment I arrived there two years ago and a lot of emotional damage has been done. That's all I'm willing to say about it here. I have difficulties ahead of me but this is where I am now - in the city of Peterborough, Ontario.
I moved here with my cats, Skittles and Zephyr early in August. Skitty had been ailing for several months. He showed all of the classic signs of feline hyperthyroidism - weight loss, rapid heart rate, vomiting and yeowling at night. The vet was convinced that a blood test would confirm it. But it didn't.
She investigated further and found him to have pancreatitis. A change in cat food was prescribed along with an acid-reducer to spare his esophagus and throat from the vomiting. He continued to be symptomatic. I was worried that the stress of moving would make things even worse for him but from the day we landed in Peterborough, he rallied greatly.
He ate well and kept it down. He began to gain weight. He played a lot more. And then after about three weeks, he began to decline once again. He had trouble keeping food and water down, and last week I could see he was losing a lot more weight and becoming dehydrated. I brought him to the vet about halfway between my new and old home. She did not feel hopeful.
I had three options. We could put him through a battery of tests at his discomfort and my great expense which were very unlikely to yield encouraging results. I could put him on "support treatments" which would keep him as comfortable as possible for as long as possible. That included subcutaneous fluids which I would learn to administer every couple of days along with medication for pain and nausea. My third option was euthanasia.
I opted to try to keep him comfortable with fluids and meds, and though there were wonderful gifts of good hours among the difficult, I could see that my beautiful boy was declining rapidly. Last night, he was showing signs of further distress and I made the achingly difficult decision to ease him out of his misery. My dear friend, Carol Anne who supported me through the whole process brought us to the clinic.
I held him close, kissed him, and tearfully told him what a joy he was to have in our lives and how very much we'll miss him. At my sons' requests I kissed him for them and told him "goodbye." I did the same on behalf of all who had loved him - and there were many - of the human, feline and canine variety. He was such a beautiful little soul. I gave the vet the nod and he died peacefully in my arms.
I held onto my boy for a while afterward, kissing his sweet head and stroking his fur and crying my heart out. He was the sweetest, most fun cat on the face of the planet and I will miss him more than I could ever express.
I still have his beautiful brother, Zephyr - his litter mate. He has the opposite personality, mostly - laid back (okay, lazy) and not quite as bright as Skitty was but every bit as loving and gentle. This morning, it was like Zephyr was channeling Skitty. He spent a fair bit of time tearing through the house in play mode and chasing his tail on my bed. He NEVER does those things. I think it's Skitty's way of letting me know he's still near.
I'll accept that gift gratefully.
Goodbye my beautiful little one. I'll love you forever.
May 18, 1999 ~ September 11, 2015