Our cat Midnight is nearly 15. A year ago our vet told us she’d be gone by Thanksgiving. Last Thanksgiving. She rallied and pulled through for another year, even putting up against a massive assault by fleas over the summer and an atrocious tail infection. What’s got her is not related.
But her kidney failure has, I think, caught up with her. She’s almost incontinent (although she does seem to be able to avoid going on porous surfaces – her accidents happen on tile or linoleum, mostly). There’s blood in her urine. She constantly drinks water, and her back end is dirty and smelly, and she violently resists attempts to clean her.
Despite all this, she’s feisty and alert, cuddling in for company, and still (!) willing to play in the kitchen. She has arthritis that limits her but doesn’t stop her movement. Her temperature feels very high.
The other cats pretty much give her wide berth (except for Clarence, who’s too dumb or stubborn to). We long ago moved the litter boxes upstairs because she couldn’t get downstairs in time to use them.
We have to get her outside a few more times. She’s been asking all summer, but we couldn’t take her, because of the fleas.
Sounds like she going to go down kicking and yowling.
So sorry.
It’s nice that you have been able to have Midnight as a friend for such a long time.
This is such a sad thing. I’m really sorry. Of course, you have to make the best inference you can about how long to keep her, but doing everything right still seems to hurt.
15 years is a pretty good long run. Congratulations on making that work for her. And, of course, there are countless other cats who would be happy to help fill the space she leaves - in fact, they really need to!
Also, maybe this will help in some way: our Sealcat is over 18 now, and still gets about, plays a bit, jumps, enjoys interaction, though she keeps getting thinner and shabbier and stiffer and is almost completely deaf. Anyway, I’m gonna go open up a can of the good stuff for her, because you reminded me how nice it is to do that. It always perks her up a bit.
The time is now. Pepper Mill made the appointment for Monday.
Midnight hasn’t eaten in days, but she’s thrown up several times – she’s throwing up clear, because there’s nothing to throw up. She’s tired, and spends almost all her time on the couch, except when she gets down to pee. Nevertheless, she’s also peeing on the couch. Apparently she’s lost bladder control (We have the couch covered with plastic). Pepper and MilliCal have both broken down and cried, but we’ve pretty much accepted it now.
I’m very sorry.
Midnight went under at 10 AM this morning. I’d played with her earlier this morning, and she actually managed to eat something. But it was just “a good day” as Pepper Mill said. She’s long been on a cdecline that wouldn’t rise, was still peeing on tghings, was very weak, ans smelled terrible, even after being washed.
it was very quick. Pepper and Milli cried, and ir was hard for me to hold things back. We went off to work and school afterwards. The body is to be cremated.
In Pace Requiescat
I’m so sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry. It does sound like it was time.
One of the last things she did, before we put her in the Cat Carrier, was to hiss at Clarence. We’f brought Clarence and Lotta in as replacements for Maggie, who had died in 2000. We figured: “She’ll get used to them, eventually.” Midnight DID get used to Lotta, probably because she resembled Maggie so much. But she never did get used to Clarence, whom she regarded as an intruder (Both Clarence and Midnight thought that they should each be the Alpha Cat). And one of her last acts was one of defiance. “Get offa my furniture!”
I’m very sorry for your loss. Goodnight, sweet kitty.
I’m sorry, CalMeacham. It sounds like she was a great cat.
I’m so sorry. I’m going through the same thing with my cat and trying to figure out when the right time is.
Sorry about Midnight, Cal. It’s never an easy thing to do, even though your friend is no longer hurting.
I’m sorry for your loss, they do leave a bit hole behind them when they go.
Cal, I’m sorry for your loss. You gave her a good home, she had a happy life and knew she was loved.
It was disconcerting this morning – I expect her to be underfoot and constantly asking for “ham”, and she’s not there. And never will be again.
I saved the tuft of fur that the vet shaved off to give her the injection. Midnight had the softest fur I’d ever felt on a cat.
She was so lucky to have you. Condolences on your loss.