Some of you know that one of my 11 year old tabby cats, Facey, has been going through some heath issues. He was diagnosed with IBD after a biopsy last month and was prescribed high dose steroids. The last couple of weeks he was seemingly doing a little better, but still not eating much.Monday he started to seem listless and a little off. I increased his steroid dose but by the time I got home Tuesday he was clearly in distress. Wednesday morning I took him to the vet, prepared for the fact that he might not be coming home with me.
I worked with a great vet at Redwood Animal Hospital, and after doing some diagnostics she determined that him to be in advanced Kidney failure, cause unknown. Rather than put him through several days in the hospital, which he would hate, and that would probably not improve his condition, I decided it was time to let him go.
We'd had some good cuddle time before the appointment, and I got some more in before they came in to give him the anesthesia. He purred for me and I chose to believe he was telling me he was ready to go. The end to his suffering was peaceful.
Feeters and I are muddling through. Lots of extra pets, lap and play time.
I'm pondering how to best memorialize my gentle, clownish friend. I didn't want his ashes, and it's hard to plant a tree in a Condo.For the moment I'm chosing to believe he's off on his next adventure, or being treated to all the wet food he can eat by Bast.
I hope I did right by you my friend. I will always value the trust you put in my hands, even at the end.
