Sept. 3, 2003- Sept. 11, 2008
We came home from vacation (which is a post & Flickr album all by itself) on the 2nd, and noticed that something was seriously wrong with Beeps. She was always a skinny, dainty little thing; but she was incredibly thin, her eyes were gooey and looked sunken, and she was obviously really really dehydrated- despite the fact that she was drooling and vomiting
As soon as the vet opened on the 3rd- her 5th birthday- we rushed her in. She was indeed dehydrated... and jaundiced. They admitted her and began administering sub q fluids, antibiotics and tube feeding. A blood panel revealed that she was experiencing liver disease/failure an an alarming rate. Unable to get her re-hydrated and to keep any food down, they began IV fluids on Friday the 5th.
A new blood panel on Monday the 8th showed that we had arrested the liver deterioration, but she was still drooling and vomiting. She would not eat or drink on her own.
On Wed Sept. 10, our vet explained the full situation: liver disease in kitties is a tricky thing. It can take weeks (sometimes more than 10) to get it under control -if it can be controlled and managed at all. Beeps was now beyond the ability of his clinic- she needed a specialist, a little kitty internist.
The practical problem with this is that the nearest internist is 35 miles away, is $100 just to examine her, $1000 for a sonogram of her liver, and God knows how much per day as a hospital inpatient...we were already trying to figure out how on earth we were going to pay her $100ish a day bill at this clinic. The emotional problem is that even if we won the lottery, we could put her through all the things the internist would try...and still be in the same place. Her prognosis was not good to begin with, and we could do weeks and weeks of treatment and still get nowhere. We were really left with no choice. I was up until 2am Wed night crying, and the tears started as soon as I left Ten at school on Thurs. morning.
She was happy to see me as usual, and for the first time in a week she "spoke". We had a nice long scratching and ear rubbing session- and when I would stop, she would stretch out the paw that didn't have the IV and rest it on my hand and gently hold my hand with her claws and purr as loud as she could manage without choking. I just stood there sobbing and petting, telling her I was sorry.
When the doctor came I asked if there wasn't anything else we could try. No, there really wasn't- and he wasn't at all convinced that an internist could save her either. I told him that I felt as though I was just giving up on her, and that I had failed her as an owner. He tried to make me feel better, and assured me that this was hardly giving up- and that were this his pet, he would be doing the same thing- it came down to the poor prognosis and the quality of her life.
Jeff came from work to say goodbye, and after they had a nice little lovefest we moved her to a place where I could hold her... as hard as it is for me, I refuse to let anyone cross The Rainbow Bridge alone. The IV made it easy, and it was only a matter of moments before I felt her go limp and her heart beat ceased beneath my hand. I just held her and sobbed until even her light little body got heavy for me.
I miss her. She was only 5- far too young for her little life to be over. I still look for her on the end of my bed, in the bathroom window sunning herself every morning, and I still check to make sure she isn't asleep in Tenley's bathtub before I close the bathroom door.
She was Mr.Smudge's (our 11 yr. old male) favourite. He adopted her, and gave her a thorough bath every day and cleaned her ears at least once a week. Sadly, this probably explains why he has it too. We think one of them got it, and shared with the other. So despite my grief over losing my soft spotty girl, this isn't over yet- I'm still medicating my old kitty and trying anything and everything to get him to eat.
We didn't explain all of this to Ten- she doesn't understand. We explained that Beeps died, and Ten says she misses her...and wants to know when she's coming home. I wish she was.
Rest in peace my sweet friend.
We will miss you always.