My cat Ugly has been at the vet hospital since Tuesday night. She won’t eat. They suspected kidney failure but her levels aren’t that bad. The found a UTI, but even with treatment she isn’t responding. She just had an x-ray and the vet now suspects cancer in her bladder.
She’s 18. I know that’s old for a cat. I know it. But my rational self is not able to convince the rest of me that she’s old and perhaps it’s the end.
She needs an ultrasound to see if it’s cancer. If it is, there is no treatment. None. And she isn’t eating. So she’ll have a test and her life depends on the answer they give. If it’s cancer, we will have her put to sleep and drat. Now I’m bawling.
This week has been a misery, and it just keeps getting worse.
My deepest sympathies, jsgoddess. As the owner of the Sweetest Cat Ever, who has ongoing liver problems (her enzyme readings are off the charts but the doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong after almost two years), I know how it feels to wait for the worst. She seems perfectly healthy and happy, but cats always do…until suddenly, one day they just crash. Whatever’s wrong with her liver is going to catch up to her eventually, and it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m taking her to the vet this afternoon for more blood work. I’ll be thinking about your Ugly.
Thanks, Boscibo. I wasn’t trying to make this about me or my cat, and I hope it didn’t seem that way. I was just letting jsgoddess know that I can relate.
Sorry to hear that things have taken this turn. I know from losing my elderly dog last year that, even when a pet has lived a long, full life, you’re never really ready to say goodbye. My best wishes to you.
I appreciate that. The thread is just as much for you and yours as for me and mine.
As for Ugly. Well. The vet was right. She has cancer in her bladder. She’s perky and affectionate and back to her inquisitive ways, and the cancer is a slow one. But she isn’t eating. So, we waffled and fretted and waffled and ended up putting her back on an IV for 48 hours. If she decides she wants to eat, she could live a couple of nice months. If she decides she doesn’t want to eat, we’ll have to say goodbye.
None of us wants to drag it on too long, but the vet was very encouraged by her behavior when she saw my husband. She adores him. He saved her when she was a sickly runty little rat of a kitten, and he wanted to give her another chance. I can’t say no to that. The vet says she isn’t in pain.
So, it may not end up being the best thing, but it’s what all three of us thought was the right choice right now.
Cyberskritches for the Ugly Bug are always welcome.
Damn - I’m going through a lot of kleenex on this message board today. (No, not that way, you perverts - all the sad news on here today.) I hope Ugly starts chowing down, lives happily for another long time, and then just goes peacefully in her sleep. Actually, that’s what I hope for everyone I know - live happily until you go in your sleep.
How is your kitty doing now? Has she decided to eat yet?
{{Hugs}}
{{Skritch under the chin}}
I feel your pain. I lost a dog to back trouble last spring, and her sister is very ill right now. My Shadow’s legs are paralyzed, but she is eating. I know how it feels to love, and lose a little fur-face.
Hang in there, Ugly!
I mean your cat, not you. I’m sure you’re very attractive.
I’m heartsick, afraid we’re being cruel, though the vet assures us that she’s not in pain. I just don’t know. We don’t want to kill her. We don’t want to torture her. We just want to love her.
When/if you look for baby food (I’ve had good luck with lamb baby food and ill cats) make sure it is only meat and water/broth. Cats don’t tolerate onion well, and some baby foods contain onion powder. Take your magnifying glass or glasses - the ingredients labels have tiny writing.
To clarify: Ugly is still at the vet, still on IV antibiotics. She has a Urinary Tract Infection, caused by the cancer irritating her bladder.
On Monday, we’re going to reassess. If the blood tests look any better, we’ll bring her home and try to get her to eat. If the blood tests don’t look any better, then I guess it will depend on how she seems to feel. It’s hard because if she doesn’t eat, she can’t recover. And perhaps she won’t eat there at all. And perhaps she won’t eat ever again because she’s old and dying and has decided to go with that. We want to make sure we give her the chance to live as long as she’s happy living. But right now, I think that she’s not going to be coming back to us, ever. No stealing my pillow or yowling at me to turn on the faucet or hissing at Isaac or snuggling up to the space heater or staring at me with those mottled eyes. I’m trying to come to grips with that.
