Monday, December 5.
Dec. 6th, 2022 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gottawonderToday I am grateful for:
My husband's presence and help today.
We both decided yesterday that Fatty was not improving at all, and we had already explored the options. Over the last two days especially he got very weak, and could not drink. He would sit in front of the water dish and dip his head down, but would not drink because of the nausea in spite of the anti-nausea pills. He was becoming dehydrated and barely moved from the cat bed.
It started to feel cruel to keep feeding him orally with a syringe.
So we made the appointment early today, and went in this afternoon.
It is always such a difficult call to make. You always feel like there should have been more that you could have done, but I have to remember that he has already been on medication for over two years now to control inflammation of the pancreas, and all of this has been a period of grace.
We aren't too sure how old he was. He came to us as an adult cat that was fairly young, maybe two or three years old. We had him for about eleven years. He showed up at our door, literally. My husband was cooking and had the screen door window open, and this cat wanted in. He was emaciated. We took him in, and right away treated him for a big abscess, likely from a bite from another cat. He was a great big cat; long and tall and huge paws and a head like a grapefruit. I feel like he might have had some Maine Coon in him, because he was just so big.
He also became a big love bug, the kind who snuggled with you under the covers and liked full-body hugs. Not many cats tolerate that. He would sleep with you for hours like that.
He put up with our dog Roxy wrestling with him as a pup. That cat could have really schooled that puppy, but he just laid on the ground and played with her instead. They played like that for all of Fatty's life, pretty much right until this last week.
Fatty also loved our cat Sprite. We brought Sprite home as a tiny kitten, and Fatty took care of her and cleaned and cuddled her. They also curled up together often after that, usually the two of them would curl up together at the foot of the bed. I think Sprite is going to really miss Fatty.
One thing I will say, is that the end of life process for pets has become very gentle. No more standing in the examination room with your pet on the steel table. Nope. A nice room more like a living room with a couch and a rug and soft lighting, and a blanket to hold your pet. No feeling that you have to rush, lots of time to say good bye.
The vet isn't brusque and matter of fact any more, they are good listeners and they make sure to tell you that you are a good, loving owner for being there with them at the end and for ending the suffering after doing your best. It is important to hear that from the vet.
We decided to have him cremated, which just seems to be the easiest thing to do, given that it is winter
My husband pretty much had to pack and leave for work again right after we got home. His job shifted his days off so that he is not coming home now until just before Christmas, but the days he would have had off are being shifted to give him more time right at Christmas.
I have just given myself permission to have a quiet night. Mostly I read, and cuddled with the kitties.
There is a great big hole where Fatty was, but I know we can't do much about the inevitable path of life and loss. We gave him a great life, and a humane passing. We didn't turn him away when he came to our door.
Today I learned that there was a treasure hidden in Yellowstone National Park.
"It all started in 2010, when Forrest Fenn, an 80-year-old art dealer, hid a treasure chest in the Rocky Mountains north of Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico.
The 10x10-inch chest, worth millions, was filled with jewelry, rare gems, ancient artifacts and, of course, gold.
Fenn said he had always wanted to lure people into the wilderness and give them the opportunity to embark on an old-fashioned adventure in search of riches.
That’s why he wrote a 24-line poem containing nine clues. He said that only the person who can decipher the clues will be able to find the treasure chest."
Was it found? You'll have to read the article.
https://www.goldavenue.com/en/blog/newsletter-precious-metals-spotlight/the-mysterious-hunt-for-forrest-fenn-s-gold-treasure
This is a fairly recent image of Fatty and Jones curled up together.
This is a picture of Fatty from several years ago.
This is Fatty taking care of baby Sprite years ago.
My husband's presence and help today.
We both decided yesterday that Fatty was not improving at all, and we had already explored the options. Over the last two days especially he got very weak, and could not drink. He would sit in front of the water dish and dip his head down, but would not drink because of the nausea in spite of the anti-nausea pills. He was becoming dehydrated and barely moved from the cat bed.
It started to feel cruel to keep feeding him orally with a syringe.
So we made the appointment early today, and went in this afternoon.
It is always such a difficult call to make. You always feel like there should have been more that you could have done, but I have to remember that he has already been on medication for over two years now to control inflammation of the pancreas, and all of this has been a period of grace.
We aren't too sure how old he was. He came to us as an adult cat that was fairly young, maybe two or three years old. We had him for about eleven years. He showed up at our door, literally. My husband was cooking and had the screen door window open, and this cat wanted in. He was emaciated. We took him in, and right away treated him for a big abscess, likely from a bite from another cat. He was a great big cat; long and tall and huge paws and a head like a grapefruit. I feel like he might have had some Maine Coon in him, because he was just so big.
He also became a big love bug, the kind who snuggled with you under the covers and liked full-body hugs. Not many cats tolerate that. He would sleep with you for hours like that.
He put up with our dog Roxy wrestling with him as a pup. That cat could have really schooled that puppy, but he just laid on the ground and played with her instead. They played like that for all of Fatty's life, pretty much right until this last week.
Fatty also loved our cat Sprite. We brought Sprite home as a tiny kitten, and Fatty took care of her and cleaned and cuddled her. They also curled up together often after that, usually the two of them would curl up together at the foot of the bed. I think Sprite is going to really miss Fatty.
One thing I will say, is that the end of life process for pets has become very gentle. No more standing in the examination room with your pet on the steel table. Nope. A nice room more like a living room with a couch and a rug and soft lighting, and a blanket to hold your pet. No feeling that you have to rush, lots of time to say good bye.
The vet isn't brusque and matter of fact any more, they are good listeners and they make sure to tell you that you are a good, loving owner for being there with them at the end and for ending the suffering after doing your best. It is important to hear that from the vet.
We decided to have him cremated, which just seems to be the easiest thing to do, given that it is winter
My husband pretty much had to pack and leave for work again right after we got home. His job shifted his days off so that he is not coming home now until just before Christmas, but the days he would have had off are being shifted to give him more time right at Christmas.
I have just given myself permission to have a quiet night. Mostly I read, and cuddled with the kitties.
There is a great big hole where Fatty was, but I know we can't do much about the inevitable path of life and loss. We gave him a great life, and a humane passing. We didn't turn him away when he came to our door.
Today I learned that there was a treasure hidden in Yellowstone National Park.
"It all started in 2010, when Forrest Fenn, an 80-year-old art dealer, hid a treasure chest in the Rocky Mountains north of Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico.
The 10x10-inch chest, worth millions, was filled with jewelry, rare gems, ancient artifacts and, of course, gold.
Fenn said he had always wanted to lure people into the wilderness and give them the opportunity to embark on an old-fashioned adventure in search of riches.
That’s why he wrote a 24-line poem containing nine clues. He said that only the person who can decipher the clues will be able to find the treasure chest."
Was it found? You'll have to read the article.
https://www.goldavenue.com/en/blog/newsletter-precious-metals-spotlight/the-mysterious-hunt-for-forrest-fenn-s-gold-treasure
This is a fairly recent image of Fatty and Jones curled up together.
This is a picture of Fatty from several years ago.
This is Fatty taking care of baby Sprite years ago.
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