Bye-Bye, Chemo Kitty
Those of you who read my LJ about two years ago know of Toby, whom I referenced as "Chemo Kitty" when I first got him. I remember wondering if he'd live to six months, or two years, or live a healthy life.
And now, it's the end.
Not because of illness - he's quite the healthy cat. But we're going to have to have him put to sleep anyway.
His constant urination is just too much to deal with anymore. It isn't anything physical that the vet can find, he says it must be some sort of emotional or behavioural problem. He doesn't seem to be trying to mark his territory as a 'full' tomcat would, just pissing everywhere he shouldn't while being simultaneously terrified of the litterbox for some crazy reason. We've tried a treatment, but it hasn't worked. I've had to wash my sheets and quilt (and scrub my mattress) more times than I care to think about - three times in the last week alone. And in an area with water restrictions, this isn't good at all - we can't afford all the extra washing. Plus, recently he's upped the ante, so to speak, by adding defecation to the list. Just this morning, Mum went downstairs to find three seperate puddles of urine and a huge pile of shit in a fourth place. And she had to clean it all up.
We had already planned on taking him to the vet, but until then Dad was somewhat open to listening to other treatments, but frankly the vet hasn't been able to guarantee anything that would control his symptoms given it's a behavioural problem. And this morning's episode put a cap in it. We just can't do it anymore, and we are NOT giving him away to someone else - not if he might get abused when he urinates. And to be honest, he's so attached to me he'd probably pine away and die without me anyhow.
In half an hour we'll be going to the vet and then my Toby-baby will be gone. And I never did get the promised pictures up onto the net either - I've only got some on my phone. They will have to do me, because I've no camera or film. But I have my memory.
He's sitting on my foot as I type this right now.
Dammit, I swore I wouldn't cry.
And now, it's the end.
Not because of illness - he's quite the healthy cat. But we're going to have to have him put to sleep anyway.
His constant urination is just too much to deal with anymore. It isn't anything physical that the vet can find, he says it must be some sort of emotional or behavioural problem. He doesn't seem to be trying to mark his territory as a 'full' tomcat would, just pissing everywhere he shouldn't while being simultaneously terrified of the litterbox for some crazy reason. We've tried a treatment, but it hasn't worked. I've had to wash my sheets and quilt (and scrub my mattress) more times than I care to think about - three times in the last week alone. And in an area with water restrictions, this isn't good at all - we can't afford all the extra washing. Plus, recently he's upped the ante, so to speak, by adding defecation to the list. Just this morning, Mum went downstairs to find three seperate puddles of urine and a huge pile of shit in a fourth place. And she had to clean it all up.
We had already planned on taking him to the vet, but until then Dad was somewhat open to listening to other treatments, but frankly the vet hasn't been able to guarantee anything that would control his symptoms given it's a behavioural problem. And this morning's episode put a cap in it. We just can't do it anymore, and we are NOT giving him away to someone else - not if he might get abused when he urinates. And to be honest, he's so attached to me he'd probably pine away and die without me anyhow.
In half an hour we'll be going to the vet and then my Toby-baby will be gone. And I never did get the promised pictures up onto the net either - I've only got some on my phone. They will have to do me, because I've no camera or film. But I have my memory.
He's sitting on my foot as I type this right now.
Dammit, I swore I wouldn't cry.