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Forgive me if I seem harsher and a little less happy in the weeks to come. Yesterday, the 17th, I and my significant other made the decision to send one of our cats onward to his rest. It was our decision after a week's worth of time in pet hospitals, with veterinarians going back and forth between whether the boy had asthma or congestive heart failure. Yesterday, we learned that it was the heart failure, and based on how he had responded to treatment in the week before, we made the decision to put him to sleep.
Gandalf arrived around Memorial Day 02008 as part of a mother and her litter that we had agreed to foster so that their original owner would not turn them out into the night to survive on their own. He had an older brother and two sisters, one older, one younger. After fostering the mother cat and her kittens, we eventually adopted out mom and the two older kittens and decided to keep the two younger ones, a grey and white cat (Gandalf) and his sister, a tabby (Gizmo). As all kittens are, he was platful, rambunction, and really liked playing with the toys that let him bat at things, pounce them, or tear them up. We figured out pretty quickly that catnip mice would be destroyed quickly and the toys with feathers would be a problem, because they both liked to chew on them. They also went through kitty experimentation to try and eat plants and other things that were bad for them.
Gandal and his sister both like to watch, either television, or "kitty television", looking out the window as the world went by. Gandalf showed an early affinity for hunting, as when moths or flying bugs came near the window, he would paw at them, trying to brign them down through the glass. Woe to the bugs that found their way inside the house, for they would soon fear the wrath of Gandalf...and we would discover about half of a bug corpse to have to clean up when he was done. Woe, also to some of our stuffed bear toys, as Gandalf liked to grab them by the scruff of their neck and then flip them into the air with a twist. No matter where we hid those bears, Gandalf would drag them out and flip them around for a bit. We stopped trying to hid the bears.
The vets tell us that cats are very good at hiding their problems until they're very well advanced. We had been taking him to the vet regularly, and the only things that really showed up on his tests was an increased white blood cell count.
At the end of last week, Gandalf had been displaying some issues with vomiting and lost appetite. After the fourth straight day of discovering vomit in the morning, we scheduled an appointment for him to see a local veterinarian on Monday.
The veterinarian suggested that Gandalf might have either asthma or heart disease, based on the x-rays and bloodwork done, but he dispatched the x-rays to a radiologist to confirm the possibilities. He thought, based on Gandalf's age (2.5 years), it was more likely to be asthma. At the time, he recommended that we take the kitty to an animal hospital and have him be put in an oxygen cage, where he would hopefully have better breathing. He gave Gandalf a steroid shot for asthma.
The doctors at the animal hospital, as well as the radiologists' report that arrived the next day, believed it was heart disease and started him on a course of treatments to reduce the swelling of his heart chambers and to allow him to pump blood more easily. Through much of this, Gandalf was perky and aware...but every time they tried to wean him off of the oxygen-rich environment, his condition worsened. They suggested we schedule an appointment with a cardiologist to confirm the heart problems. That was Tuesday. We scheduled the appoiintment for Thursday. We did our best to keep Gandalf's regular vet in the loop about all that had happened to this point.
On Wednesday night, we were worried about his condition not improving, and we began to think about whether euthanasia was the right course of action. I wanted, if possible, for Gandalf to die at home surrounded by his family, and Annette agreed. We scheduled for a doctor to come to the house after-hours and administer the drugs. We rented some oxygen tanks from a local medical supply store so that we could keep him in an oxygen-rich environment untilit was time for his passing. Or, if Gandalf seemed healthier in the environment, we thought about possibly running him up to the cardiologist, because his office was part of another animal hospital that would have an oxygen cage for Gandalf. Gandalf seemed alert and active when he got home, even after a little bit of time out of the makeshift oxygen tent we created for him. We asked the house call doctor for his opinion, and he said that it was most likely asthma, and gave him a shot of a fast-acting steroid and a slow-acting steroid and told us to wait it out and see if his condition improved. We took sleeping shifts through the night to keep an eye on him. As the night went on, Gandalf became less animated and more lethargic. He threw up a couple of times during the night. He was calmer and not actively agitated, but Gizmo wouldn't go near him. She hissed at him and ran off any time she got close. I was worried that this was a sign that Gizmo knew something we didn't, and that Gandalf might have been just settling in to die slowly. We left a message for the regular vet to let her know what we had done.
This morning, our regular vet called us and told us that in no uncertain terms, we needed to get Gandalf to the cardiologist, as he definitely had heart trouble and that leaving him outside of oxygen was just leaving him out to die. We remade our makeshift oxygen tent, and drove him (along with the dogs and Gizmo) up to the cardiologist. The cardiologist confirmed what we had feared - heart disease. At that point, having seen how Gandalf reacted to treatments earlier in the week, we made the difficult decision to euthanize him at the hospital.
At 3pm yesterday, I held my boy kitty for the last time as the euthanizing doctor administered something to make him sleep, and then something to make him sleep permanently. He went peacefully into the fields, where he is now proudly showing off his hunting skills to anyone who will watch. We elected to have him cremated, and to have a pawprint of his made for us to keep along with his ashes.
We're going to take Gizmo in at some point to have her screened to see if she has the same genetic predispositions as her brother.
Saying goodbye to Gandalf was hard enough. Now to pick up the pieces and work out the money. It was all well worth the money to get the answers we needed. I wish it could have ended differently, but Gandalf had a good life while he was with us. I miss him terribly, and I love him.
Thanks for reading. We'll return you to your regularly scheduled news posts soon enough.
Gandalf arrived around Memorial Day 02008 as part of a mother and her litter that we had agreed to foster so that their original owner would not turn them out into the night to survive on their own. He had an older brother and two sisters, one older, one younger. After fostering the mother cat and her kittens, we eventually adopted out mom and the two older kittens and decided to keep the two younger ones, a grey and white cat (Gandalf) and his sister, a tabby (Gizmo). As all kittens are, he was platful, rambunction, and really liked playing with the toys that let him bat at things, pounce them, or tear them up. We figured out pretty quickly that catnip mice would be destroyed quickly and the toys with feathers would be a problem, because they both liked to chew on them. They also went through kitty experimentation to try and eat plants and other things that were bad for them.
Gandal and his sister both like to watch, either television, or "kitty television", looking out the window as the world went by. Gandalf showed an early affinity for hunting, as when moths or flying bugs came near the window, he would paw at them, trying to brign them down through the glass. Woe to the bugs that found their way inside the house, for they would soon fear the wrath of Gandalf...and we would discover about half of a bug corpse to have to clean up when he was done. Woe, also to some of our stuffed bear toys, as Gandalf liked to grab them by the scruff of their neck and then flip them into the air with a twist. No matter where we hid those bears, Gandalf would drag them out and flip them around for a bit. We stopped trying to hid the bears.
The vets tell us that cats are very good at hiding their problems until they're very well advanced. We had been taking him to the vet regularly, and the only things that really showed up on his tests was an increased white blood cell count.
At the end of last week, Gandalf had been displaying some issues with vomiting and lost appetite. After the fourth straight day of discovering vomit in the morning, we scheduled an appointment for him to see a local veterinarian on Monday.
The veterinarian suggested that Gandalf might have either asthma or heart disease, based on the x-rays and bloodwork done, but he dispatched the x-rays to a radiologist to confirm the possibilities. He thought, based on Gandalf's age (2.5 years), it was more likely to be asthma. At the time, he recommended that we take the kitty to an animal hospital and have him be put in an oxygen cage, where he would hopefully have better breathing. He gave Gandalf a steroid shot for asthma.
The doctors at the animal hospital, as well as the radiologists' report that arrived the next day, believed it was heart disease and started him on a course of treatments to reduce the swelling of his heart chambers and to allow him to pump blood more easily. Through much of this, Gandalf was perky and aware...but every time they tried to wean him off of the oxygen-rich environment, his condition worsened. They suggested we schedule an appointment with a cardiologist to confirm the heart problems. That was Tuesday. We scheduled the appoiintment for Thursday. We did our best to keep Gandalf's regular vet in the loop about all that had happened to this point.
On Wednesday night, we were worried about his condition not improving, and we began to think about whether euthanasia was the right course of action. I wanted, if possible, for Gandalf to die at home surrounded by his family, and Annette agreed. We scheduled for a doctor to come to the house after-hours and administer the drugs. We rented some oxygen tanks from a local medical supply store so that we could keep him in an oxygen-rich environment untilit was time for his passing. Or, if Gandalf seemed healthier in the environment, we thought about possibly running him up to the cardiologist, because his office was part of another animal hospital that would have an oxygen cage for Gandalf. Gandalf seemed alert and active when he got home, even after a little bit of time out of the makeshift oxygen tent we created for him. We asked the house call doctor for his opinion, and he said that it was most likely asthma, and gave him a shot of a fast-acting steroid and a slow-acting steroid and told us to wait it out and see if his condition improved. We took sleeping shifts through the night to keep an eye on him. As the night went on, Gandalf became less animated and more lethargic. He threw up a couple of times during the night. He was calmer and not actively agitated, but Gizmo wouldn't go near him. She hissed at him and ran off any time she got close. I was worried that this was a sign that Gizmo knew something we didn't, and that Gandalf might have been just settling in to die slowly. We left a message for the regular vet to let her know what we had done.
This morning, our regular vet called us and told us that in no uncertain terms, we needed to get Gandalf to the cardiologist, as he definitely had heart trouble and that leaving him outside of oxygen was just leaving him out to die. We remade our makeshift oxygen tent, and drove him (along with the dogs and Gizmo) up to the cardiologist. The cardiologist confirmed what we had feared - heart disease. At that point, having seen how Gandalf reacted to treatments earlier in the week, we made the difficult decision to euthanize him at the hospital.
At 3pm yesterday, I held my boy kitty for the last time as the euthanizing doctor administered something to make him sleep, and then something to make him sleep permanently. He went peacefully into the fields, where he is now proudly showing off his hunting skills to anyone who will watch. We elected to have him cremated, and to have a pawprint of his made for us to keep along with his ashes.
We're going to take Gizmo in at some point to have her screened to see if she has the same genetic predispositions as her brother.
Saying goodbye to Gandalf was hard enough. Now to pick up the pieces and work out the money. It was all well worth the money to get the answers we needed. I wish it could have ended differently, but Gandalf had a good life while he was with us. I miss him terribly, and I love him.
Thanks for reading. We'll return you to your regularly scheduled news posts soon enough.
