semiotic_pirate | Sadness is... (Reply)

Finding out your favorite kitty in the whole wide world is going to die of Lymphoma. He's got anywhere from two weeks to two years (the two year case was an exception, the weeks/months cases are the rule).

It isn't like this was completely unexpected. I knew that he didn't have something simple like IBS because the treatment for that didn't work after a while. And now I found out, when the family vet stopped by the house, that there is a lump in there where there shouldn't be.

He hadn't been eating or cuddling, was hiding under the bed and all that. I had a crying jag and didn't get anything done at all today.

When our vet friend was over, she brought some syringes, one a steroid shot, the other an antibiotic. A tiny bit later, he demanded to be fed and was more active than he'd been in a while. More interactive with his environment, hanging out lounging in the living room instead of hiding under the bed.

So.

In all my years of intermittent pet ownership, this is the first time I've ever had (where the cat is mine, Loki was CoB's cat) a sick pet in the end stages of life. I've had the furball for about 12 years and he wasn't a kitten when I got him from the shelter. It makes me sad that he'll probably be gone soon, but I know that he's had a happy life and all that. The key now is to make sure he's got that "quality of life" for the time he has left.