Au Revoir, My Friend ... Until We Meet Again

On Tuesday afternoon, February 15th, Dr. C. came to my house to euthanize Simone.  I sat next to her and stroked her head as she received a sedative, followed by the lethal drug.  In just moments she was gone, as was her suffering and discomfort.

In Simone's last days, her kidneys were failing her.  She was getting weaker and weaker.  But she still had spirit and awareness.  She still managed to climb the stairs from the basement to the first floor.  She even climbed up the ramp to the bed to spend some time sleeping with Pickles as seen in the picture below.

On Monday morning, after settling in on a bathroom mat, she began to wail, an unusual sound for her.  My wife, unsettled by the sound, decided to stay home from work to keep Simone company throughout the day.  When I came home that evening, Simone was again in the bathroom and wailing intermittently.  As soon as I picked her up, she stopped.  We spent the evening together on the couch in the living room; she was quiet, content, and purred lightly.

 

I fixed a bed for Simone on the basement floor and stayed with her that last night.  She barely made a sound and rested comfortably next to me.  The next morning Simone was so weak that she could not stand up.  She remained in the bed until the afternoon.  Waiting for Dr. C. to arrive, I talked to her about her life, our friendship, and the eternal bond that we had.  She was such a brave and spirited cat.  I felt so fortunate to have had Simone with me for twenty years.

Within an hour of her death, Simone was buried in a leaf compost bed near our house.

I'll miss you Queen Siamese.  In memory of Simone's life:

[There will be one last post in a few weeks time.  In that post, I will summarize my thoughts in taking care of companion pet with a fatal illness like chronic renal failure:  the ups, the downs, the costs, the sacrifices.]

Thanks for reading.  Thanks for your thoughts.  Thanks for your words.  Purr on cat lovers!

Everything

the power of the world

does is done in a circle.  The

sky is round,  and . . . the earth is

round like a ball, and so are all the stars.

The wind, in its greatest power, whirls. Birds

make their nests in circles, for theirs is the same

religion as ours.   The sun comes forth and goes

down again in a circle. The moon does the same,

and both are round.   Even the seasons form a

great circle in their changing and always come

back again to where they were. The life of a

cat is a circle from kitten-hood to kitten-

hood, and so it is in everything

where power moves.

— Black Elk

    (revised)

Time To Say Goodbye?

At the end of winter 2009, I had several dreams about Simone getting sick and dying.  A few months later, she definitely was sick and shortly thereafter got diagnosed with chronic renal failure.  After starting treatment, she came back strong and beat that disease.  Now I think it's old age that has gotten the best of her and there's no beating life's alarm clock.

Last Friday, the news was terrible.  She had lost another pound; her weight was down to 3 lbs 1 oz.  In her youth, Simone was a 7 lb cat, so in just a few months she was down 40% from a healthy weight.  The assisted feeding program was not working.  Her energy was waning.  On Saturday, she had trouble staying on her feet ... wavering, rocking, swaying unsteady as she walked.  Amazingly, she remained alert, still walked around, followed me from room to room, but it became blatantly clear that her quality of life was ebbing away.  She had become incontinent; her physical decline was accompanied by a mental decline.  Simone was letting go very slowly.  As a last ditch effort, I gave her a homeopathic appetite enhancer, but it's probably too late for that.

Tomorrow is a decision day for the last refrain of Simone's journey.  Purr on cat lovers!

"One measure of a good life is the companionship of a devoted cat."  (Mel Weinstein)   

Simone Turns Zombie-Like; The Spiral Continues; We Have A Close Moment

Simone got two full doses of mirtazapine (appetite enhancer) in the previous week.  Although she started to eat small amounts of food in the morning and evening, she became zombie-like after the second dose, which was given 3 days after the first one.  She wasn't craving human flesh, but she was slightly wobbly on her feet, laid on the floor in an odd configuration, stopped talking and purring, looked catatonic (no pun intended), and was just not her old self.  That drug was messing with her brain chemistry!  I decided to stop administering the drug; it took 3 to 4 days for it to clear her body.  If I go back to it, I will have to greatly reduce the dosage.  In the mean time, she returned to not eating any food set out for her, and I continued to assist feed her 2 to 3 times per day.  But, fortunately, her old behaviors returned -- now she walks around more, talks, and, although weak, is more balanced on her feet.

Simone is a disappearing cat ... not in a Cheshire kind of way, but due to continued weight loss.  I took her to the vet's office last Friday, and she had lost another 2.0 oz in a week's time.  That's a 25% weight loss since mid-December.  Not good!  The assisted feeding is not counterbalancing the weight loss ... not sure what to do at this point.  Ugh!!!

A few days ago, after eating a substantial amount of dark chocolate late at night, I was wired at bedtime and couldn't get to sleep.  Around 3:00am I finally gave up, went into the living room, and laid down on the sofa to read a book.  A few minutes later, Simone lopes slowly into the living room, heads over to me, jumps on the couch, and proceeds to lie on my chest, just as she has always done.  In a few minutes, she was purring, which she had not done for at least a week.  I had begun to wonder if the loss of purring was the sign.  She dispelled that idea.  For the time being, Simone was back to her old self, albeit a much smaller version.  What an amazing cat!

Hang onto life as long as you can purr.  So, purr on, cat lovers.

"If you are worthy of its affection, a cat will be your friend, but never your slave." (Theophile Gautier)