Tuesday, 6/3/03

My Buddycat is dying. 

Those words are had to write and I thought about avoiding it.  But it's the truth.

Skywise, our oldest cat (16 1/2 years old) developed Diabetes back in 2000.  We had it pretty well-managed up until now.  But his kidneys started to fail sometime in the last 6 months and culminated in a diagnosis of  Renal Failure yesterday.  I knew this would happen eventually, but one can't be totally prepared when it eventually happens.  Fortunately, we have Webster Groves Animal Hospital as our backup resource.

Sunday, he was meowing plaintively in a way that an attuned pet owner can tell that something is wrong with them.  He was sluggish-acting.  We took him in eventually, after observing his behavior, but in retrospect we should have taken him in hours earlier.  After looking him over, they said he was pretty dehydrated and his blood sugar levels were out of whack.  They had to give him intravenous fluids to assure he would be stabilized more quickly.

We weighed the benefits of whether to take him home or leave him at the hospital to be monitored more carefully, and decided the latter was the best course.  It was a more expensive alternative, but as a family member, we wanted him to feel better faster.

After his appointment, they'd taken him to a back room for testing, etc.  Just before I left, a very kind assistant -- the type who radiates a great love for animals -- led me back to his holding cage so I could say goodbye.  She said he was a very sweet and calm cat.  She brought Sky out and said something like, "Your daddy's here to see you".  That just broke my heart.   It really brought home how, yes, I'm like his father (even though in people years he's something like 80 years old).  And the results showing renal failure was such a final thing. 

 The assistant handed Sky to me, and I cradled him in my arms.   It was already hard, knowing what I did, but now my heart hurt even more.  His look was "What's happening?  I feel sick.  Why am I being treated this way?"  I finally had to put him back in the cage and leave.   Before I left, though, I took off my hooded sweatshirt and gave it to her to put in his cage so he would have something with my scent on it to comfort him.