Tough Week
The latter part of this week has been very tough for me because we lost two cats. The first was one of Mama Cat’s babies, who crawled into Debbie’s daughter’s car and she drove it, unaware. Then today I had to have Garfield euthanized because he had leukemia. Considering we lost Baby Tiger a few weeks ago, it’s been a hard month overall.
Back on Monday, the kids who were bothering the cats a couple of weeks ago discovered Mama Cat’s nest in my neighbor’s backyard. I think mostly out of ignorance they picked up the kittens and were poking around the nest area, and so later that evening Mama Cat moved the babies. I tried to explain to the boys that you just don’t do that with young kittens, unless the mother knows you very, very well. Even if the queen appears not to be there, more often than not they are nearby and many times they are watching. And even if she didn’t see the kids in her nest touching her babies, she smelled them. I watched her afterwards smelling the area around her nest intently. I hoped she wouldn’t move them, but she did. She had moved those kittens so many times since they were born that she had simply run out of safe places and so she resorted once again to placing them under cars. Mostly she kept them under our cars and it worked out that when Tim was gone, I was home and vice versa so they were OK.
However, then the kittens figured out how to climb into the front end of Debbie’s daughter’s car and I tried to stop them from doing it but they kept at it. I put them on the mat by our front door, and Mama Cat actually kept them there for a while. I was hoping they would be there when I came back that afternoon so I could try to find them another place, but that day they mowed the lawns and Mama Cat must have moved them under the cars again. Debbie’s daughter knew that the kittens had taken to crawling into her car, but neither of us knew all the places where small kittens can crawl under a car and while she looked to see if there were any kittens in the front end of her car, and knocked to startle them if they were there and even honked her horn, it looked like they weren’t there so she went where she had to go. When I came home from work that day I looked to see where Mama Cat and the babies were and I noticed Mama Cat sitting under Debbie’s daughter’s car. I looked under there and felt ill when I saw a small foot dangling from the underside of the car. I knew immediately that it was too late for that baby, and wondered desperately where the other one was. I didn’t know for a while if it had suffered the same fate or if it was safe somewhere else. I called Tim to help me get it out so we could bury it. So Tim, who has been so good through all these cat-related situations, came outside and told me to go inside, that he would deal with it. So he got the baby out, and buried it next to Baby Tiger behind our backyard. I was very upset and couldn’t think straight for a while. I wondered how Mama Cat would deal with the loss of her baby, and wondered whether the other one was still alive somewhere.
After a while, when I had calmed down a bit, I went outside to see if the other baby was somewhere safe. I looked for a while and couldn’t find it. I began to worry again, until I saw Mama Cat go under a car that’s been parked for months and heard her meow in that special tone she uses for her kittens. Out of the underside of that car came the other kitten. It was a huge relief in a way because the other baby was alive, and on the other hand I was alarmed that it was also hiding in a car. While that car hasn’t been drive in months, and probably won’t get driven again, I doubt that such a young kitten can tell which cars are abandoned and which ones are driven regularly. I was also worried that Mama Cat would move him again to a different car. So I did the only thing I could think of—I brought the kitten into our apartment. From the experience we had a few weeks ago, when Mama Cat’s babies were in our apartment for a few days and Mama Cat was so nervous with her kittens indoors, I knew it wasn’t the ideal situation. But considering what had happened to the other baby, I knew this was the only way to keep the surviving kitten safe. Mama Cat isn’t happy with the situation, and on top of that she has swelling from the accumulated milk that isn’t being consumed by the baby she lost. Especially in the past couple of days she kept looking for the missing kitten, and it broke my heart to see and hear her, looking and meowing for her baby. She has been feeding the surviving kitten some, but not quite enough. I think it may be part of the stress of dealing with the loss of her baby, the stress of having her other kitten indoors, and the swelling must not be helping either. Today she has been a bit more calm, and I hope she will continue to do better. I care a great deal about Mama Cat and it makes me sad to see her upset, and I wish she would stay inside with her baby, but she doesn’t want to stay indoors, and I just can’t let the baby out. I’ve talked to the vet, and they agree with what I’m doing. I hope that it’s ultimately the right thing to do. The kitten itself is a fuzzy ball of energy and I am very glad he’s alive. I just wish it could spend more time with his Mama Cat and that he hadn’t lost his sibling, with whom he’d been spending all his time until now.
This brings me to the other loss, of Garfield. He had been having trouble eating for quite a while, and because he couldn’t seem to eat hard food without being in pain, I started buying wet food for him. This was already a while ago—I’m not sure when I started feeding him wet food. Lately he’d even started having trouble with that and I’d mash the wet food so that he could lick it off the ground without having to chew. I was convinced that he had some sort of tooth problem and decided to take him to the vet. I asked Hannah for her vet’s name and so I called them up and made an appointment for this morning. Early this morning I looked for him and was worried I might not be able to find him after all, but eventually he did show up and he was affectionate as always. Because we had a little time before we had to head to the vet, we cuddled some and sat in the morning sun, which was very pleasant. He sat on me for a while, and then next to me on the ground, leaning against me. I thought our visit to the vet would go well and we’d be back home for some milk or wet food.
At the vet’s, I explained his problem with eating and when she tried to look at his mouth, he screamed. That was how much his mouth hurt. Because we didn’t know his medical history, and assumed he’d never had shots, she decided to test him for feline leukemia. She also took his temperature, which was low. When drawing blood for the leukemia test, she noted that his blood was dark, indicating that it was not carrying enough oxygen. At that point I really started to worry and began to suspect that the test would come up positive. While we waited for the results, I held him in my lap and hugged him and he sat there, purring in my lap. He was so calm. The vet came back after a while and confirmed that the test was positive. I knew that the only thing to do was to euthanize him. Leukemia is very tough for cats to beat, and they have to be isolated from other cats because it is contagious. Not only was complete isolation impossible, but the disease had already taken its toll on him, so I did the only thing I could do for him, which was agree to have him euthanized. It was a very
clear decision, but nonetheless not an easy one to make. By now I was crying, and still holding Garfield, my little guy, in my arms. The vet gave us some time and so we cuddled some more. I lifted him up to my shoulder and he rubbed against my ear, the way he liked to do. I also told him I loved him. Finally it was time, so the vet first gave him a tranquilizer. I continued to hold him in my arms until his body was very relaxed, and then put him on the table. I continued to stroke him while the vet administered the injection and until he was gone. My little guy went, as the vet said, peacefully into the great beyond.
Back on Monday, the kids who were bothering the cats a couple of weeks ago discovered Mama Cat’s nest in my neighbor’s backyard. I think mostly out of ignorance they picked up the kittens and were poking around the nest area, and so later that evening Mama Cat moved the babies. I tried to explain to the boys that you just don’t do that with young kittens, unless the mother knows you very, very well. Even if the queen appears not to be there, more often than not they are nearby and many times they are watching. And even if she didn’t see the kids in her nest touching her babies, she smelled them. I watched her afterwards smelling the area around her nest intently. I hoped she wouldn’t move them, but she did. She had moved those kittens so many times since they were born that she had simply run out of safe places and so she resorted once again to placing them under cars. Mostly she kept them under our cars and it worked out that when Tim was gone, I was home and vice versa so they were OK.
However, then the kittens figured out how to climb into the front end of Debbie’s daughter’s car and I tried to stop them from doing it but they kept at it. I put them on the mat by our front door, and Mama Cat actually kept them there for a while. I was hoping they would be there when I came back that afternoon so I could try to find them another place, but that day they mowed the lawns and Mama Cat must have moved them under the cars again. Debbie’s daughter knew that the kittens had taken to crawling into her car, but neither of us knew all the places where small kittens can crawl under a car and while she looked to see if there were any kittens in the front end of her car, and knocked to startle them if they were there and even honked her horn, it looked like they weren’t there so she went where she had to go. When I came home from work that day I looked to see where Mama Cat and the babies were and I noticed Mama Cat sitting under Debbie’s daughter’s car. I looked under there and felt ill when I saw a small foot dangling from the underside of the car. I knew immediately that it was too late for that baby, and wondered desperately where the other one was. I didn’t know for a while if it had suffered the same fate or if it was safe somewhere else. I called Tim to help me get it out so we could bury it. So Tim, who has been so good through all these cat-related situations, came outside and told me to go inside, that he would deal with it. So he got the baby out, and buried it next to Baby Tiger behind our backyard. I was very upset and couldn’t think straight for a while. I wondered how Mama Cat would deal with the loss of her baby, and wondered whether the other one was still alive somewhere.
After a while, when I had calmed down a bit, I went outside to see if the other baby was somewhere safe. I looked for a while and couldn’t find it. I began to worry again, until I saw Mama Cat go under a car that’s been parked for months and heard her meow in that special tone she uses for her kittens. Out of the underside of that car came the other kitten. It was a huge relief in a way because the other baby was alive, and on the other hand I was alarmed that it was also hiding in a car. While that car hasn’t been drive in months, and probably won’t get driven again, I doubt that such a young kitten can tell which cars are abandoned and which ones are driven regularly. I was also worried that Mama Cat would move him again to a different car. So I did the only thing I could think of—I brought the kitten into our apartment. From the experience we had a few weeks ago, when Mama Cat’s babies were in our apartment for a few days and Mama Cat was so nervous with her kittens indoors, I knew it wasn’t the ideal situation. But considering what had happened to the other baby, I knew this was the only way to keep the surviving kitten safe. Mama Cat isn’t happy with the situation, and on top of that she has swelling from the accumulated milk that isn’t being consumed by the baby she lost. Especially in the past couple of days she kept looking for the missing kitten, and it broke my heart to see and hear her, looking and meowing for her baby. She has been feeding the surviving kitten some, but not quite enough. I think it may be part of the stress of dealing with the loss of her baby, the stress of having her other kitten indoors, and the swelling must not be helping either. Today she has been a bit more calm, and I hope she will continue to do better. I care a great deal about Mama Cat and it makes me sad to see her upset, and I wish she would stay inside with her baby, but she doesn’t want to stay indoors, and I just can’t let the baby out. I’ve talked to the vet, and they agree with what I’m doing. I hope that it’s ultimately the right thing to do. The kitten itself is a fuzzy ball of energy and I am very glad he’s alive. I just wish it could spend more time with his Mama Cat and that he hadn’t lost his sibling, with whom he’d been spending all his time until now.
This brings me to the other loss, of Garfield. He had been having trouble eating for quite a while, and because he couldn’t seem to eat hard food without being in pain, I started buying wet food for him. This was already a while ago—I’m not sure when I started feeding him wet food. Lately he’d even started having trouble with that and I’d mash the wet food so that he could lick it off the ground without having to chew. I was convinced that he had some sort of tooth problem and decided to take him to the vet. I asked Hannah for her vet’s name and so I called them up and made an appointment for this morning. Early this morning I looked for him and was worried I might not be able to find him after all, but eventually he did show up and he was affectionate as always. Because we had a little time before we had to head to the vet, we cuddled some and sat in the morning sun, which was very pleasant. He sat on me for a while, and then next to me on the ground, leaning against me. I thought our visit to the vet would go well and we’d be back home for some milk or wet food.
At the vet’s, I explained his problem with eating and when she tried to look at his mouth, he screamed. That was how much his mouth hurt. Because we didn’t know his medical history, and assumed he’d never had shots, she decided to test him for feline leukemia. She also took his temperature, which was low. When drawing blood for the leukemia test, she noted that his blood was dark, indicating that it was not carrying enough oxygen. At that point I really started to worry and began to suspect that the test would come up positive. While we waited for the results, I held him in my lap and hugged him and he sat there, purring in my lap. He was so calm. The vet came back after a while and confirmed that the test was positive. I knew that the only thing to do was to euthanize him. Leukemia is very tough for cats to beat, and they have to be isolated from other cats because it is contagious. Not only was complete isolation impossible, but the disease had already taken its toll on him, so I did the only thing I could do for him, which was agree to have him euthanized. It was a very
clear decision, but nonetheless not an easy one to make. By now I was crying, and still holding Garfield, my little guy, in my arms. The vet gave us some time and so we cuddled some more. I lifted him up to my shoulder and he rubbed against my ear, the way he liked to do. I also told him I loved him. Finally it was time, so the vet first gave him a tranquilizer. I continued to hold him in my arms until his body was very relaxed, and then put him on the table. I continued to stroke him while the vet administered the injection and until he was gone. My little guy went, as the vet said, peacefully into the great beyond.
posted by Ana at 19:13
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