Gone
My vacation has come to a bad end. It seemed too short anyway, but this just made it worse.
I was on vacation all this past week, so was thoroughly enjoying getting to spend all day doing nothing. Or, really, not nothing precisely, but a lot of lazing around, watching movies, going to Astroworld, and generally enjoying myself. Randy and I were spoiled, generally seeing each other every day. But his work starts again on Friday, too, so he'll be keeping busy there.
Regardless, when I got home, late, on Friday, I was met at the door by Beau and Dulcie, but not Merlin. Strange, as he's generally quite a friendly cat. I called and hunted for him, and eventually found him lying in the kitchen, on the floor next to the food bowls. Not the usual spot for him, really. I paused, then went to bed, deciding we'd go to the vet if he kept acting funny.
He didn't sleep with me, and Saturday morning was lying beneath the buffet -- not really unusual, but he was still acting funny, not interested in playing (even in the toy he'd been playing with on Wednesday night) and although he ran into the room to get water when I refilled his bowl, he didn't drink, and was lying on the tile floors again. So I took him to the vet, and they brought him in pretty quickly, even without an appointment. We were a little worried he might be getting blocked up again.
He didn't seem to be blocked, although they said his bladder was full; they expressed some, and took a urine sample, then requested to do a blood panel, too, as his temperature was low. So we did, and he came back anemic. By this point, his urinalysis was fine, but he had other odd things -- his temperature kept falling, even though they had him on a heating pad and warmed fluids; he was freaking out and starting to breath hard, which was unusual for him as he's usually so relaxed; he kept crying. At this point, they were lost, and started doing x-rays, and admitted to me they were just trying to treat the symptoms and stabilize him so they could figure out just what was wrong. His x-rays were inconclusive, too, but evidently a bit odd; they thought he had fluid in his abdomen.
By the time I'd been there for almost three hours, they had me come back and sit with him and start holding the oxygen and petting him; not even a half-hour later, he started gasping for breath, and we had to put him to sleep, as they said once a cat starts doing that, they can't save him. They were very apologetic, and nice; it's hard, though, to bring a cat that just seems off in... and have it crash while you're treating.
They did an autopsy for free, and found a tumor on his liver, and his abdomen full of blood. They'd told me earlier that it might be a tumor, and that the ones on the liver and pancreas tended to bleed. I think they'd suspected that, as they'd wanted to do an ultrasound if they could have stabilized him. I'm relieved it was that, because it doesn't leave you with the idea that maybe something could have changed.
Hard though: I'd had him since he was five months old, and he was only nine; he's the cat I always expected would live to be 17, old and arthritic, still purring. I'd had him when I first moved out, and he's been the most loyal pet I've ever had. And shocking: you don't expect to bring a cat in to be checked out, only to have to put it to sleep a few hours later, especially when they'd seem fine when you'd come in. They did try to keep the costs down, and I noticed on my bill that the things that were done after he started going down were discounted heavily (the blood panel got something of a discount too) but it still cost me over 460 dollars.
Ouch. No cat, so much money, and really, the world's sweetest cat gone. He was the sort of cat that even people who claimed to dislike cats liked. He was everybody's friend, tolerant of the dog's abuse, and purred if you so much as looked at him. I had to call a few people to tell them what had happened, since they'd loved him too.
I have Dulcie asleep in my lap now, and Beau at my feet, but, of course, it's not the same. Merlin never slept in laps, but he was always near, and the apartment is quieter without him.
I was on vacation all this past week, so was thoroughly enjoying getting to spend all day doing nothing. Or, really, not nothing precisely, but a lot of lazing around, watching movies, going to Astroworld, and generally enjoying myself. Randy and I were spoiled, generally seeing each other every day. But his work starts again on Friday, too, so he'll be keeping busy there.
Regardless, when I got home, late, on Friday, I was met at the door by Beau and Dulcie, but not Merlin. Strange, as he's generally quite a friendly cat. I called and hunted for him, and eventually found him lying in the kitchen, on the floor next to the food bowls. Not the usual spot for him, really. I paused, then went to bed, deciding we'd go to the vet if he kept acting funny.
He didn't sleep with me, and Saturday morning was lying beneath the buffet -- not really unusual, but he was still acting funny, not interested in playing (even in the toy he'd been playing with on Wednesday night) and although he ran into the room to get water when I refilled his bowl, he didn't drink, and was lying on the tile floors again. So I took him to the vet, and they brought him in pretty quickly, even without an appointment. We were a little worried he might be getting blocked up again.
He didn't seem to be blocked, although they said his bladder was full; they expressed some, and took a urine sample, then requested to do a blood panel, too, as his temperature was low. So we did, and he came back anemic. By this point, his urinalysis was fine, but he had other odd things -- his temperature kept falling, even though they had him on a heating pad and warmed fluids; he was freaking out and starting to breath hard, which was unusual for him as he's usually so relaxed; he kept crying. At this point, they were lost, and started doing x-rays, and admitted to me they were just trying to treat the symptoms and stabilize him so they could figure out just what was wrong. His x-rays were inconclusive, too, but evidently a bit odd; they thought he had fluid in his abdomen.
By the time I'd been there for almost three hours, they had me come back and sit with him and start holding the oxygen and petting him; not even a half-hour later, he started gasping for breath, and we had to put him to sleep, as they said once a cat starts doing that, they can't save him. They were very apologetic, and nice; it's hard, though, to bring a cat that just seems off in... and have it crash while you're treating.
They did an autopsy for free, and found a tumor on his liver, and his abdomen full of blood. They'd told me earlier that it might be a tumor, and that the ones on the liver and pancreas tended to bleed. I think they'd suspected that, as they'd wanted to do an ultrasound if they could have stabilized him. I'm relieved it was that, because it doesn't leave you with the idea that maybe something could have changed.
Hard though: I'd had him since he was five months old, and he was only nine; he's the cat I always expected would live to be 17, old and arthritic, still purring. I'd had him when I first moved out, and he's been the most loyal pet I've ever had. And shocking: you don't expect to bring a cat in to be checked out, only to have to put it to sleep a few hours later, especially when they'd seem fine when you'd come in. They did try to keep the costs down, and I noticed on my bill that the things that were done after he started going down were discounted heavily (the blood panel got something of a discount too) but it still cost me over 460 dollars.
Ouch. No cat, so much money, and really, the world's sweetest cat gone. He was the sort of cat that even people who claimed to dislike cats liked. He was everybody's friend, tolerant of the dog's abuse, and purred if you so much as looked at him. I had to call a few people to tell them what had happened, since they'd loved him too.
I have Dulcie asleep in my lap now, and Beau at my feet, but, of course, it's not the same. Merlin never slept in laps, but he was always near, and the apartment is quieter without him.