The Valley of the Shadow of Death
El Gordo had a visit from the angel of death on Thursday. Thankfully it was just a visit. I have been getting calls from our family worldwide to check on this muffin. He is alive and doing ok.
With cats you never know if they are dying until they are really dead and stiff. I really feel like I should blog about kitten first aid help because there is so much I have learned over the last 14 years of living with these guys.
On Wednesday I noticed that the Cupcake wasn't feeling too good. He had vomited a lot and it wasn't a hairball kind of vomit. He looked sad and morose. I went to work hoping he would feel better. On Thursday I awoke to a howling sad El Gordo. He was bent in pain dragging his back legs behind him. He went to the litter box about 10 times screaming then vomiting. I immediately took him to the vet. Of course, my good vet wasn't there. She was out of town for the weekend. The vet there was young, ALLERGIC TO CATS and wanted to run every test in the world on El Gordo. He was miserable. We left the vet without a solid conclusion about what was killing him. I took him home, made him comfortable in a little basket and went to work for a few hours. Bad mistake on my part.
When I came home the house was covered in blood and other bodily fluids. El Gordo was foaming at the mouth, unable to walk and totally covered in every fluid possible. It was a tragedy. Luckily my husband got home at the same time, and having served his time working in the hospitals ER he knew what to do. He is a great doctor and incredible on-call vet. We had to throw away so many things and the chef washed the entire house in bleach. It was bad. I took my limp destroyed cat to the basement, gently gave him a warm bath in the big basement sink to wash away all his yuckies and put him in his basket with some fleece blankets on him. He stopped moving. I felt like this could be it. I called the vet to yell at her but what use was it? El Gordo wasn't moving. I sat next to him and recited Psalm 23 to him. I told him he was going to get through this and that I would help him. He opened an eye and I knew he was still alive.
Around 4 in the morning I went to check on him and he looked at me. I knew he had a good chance then. I served him some wet cat food and he licked a little in exhaustion then closed his eyes again. I stayed with him on Friday to make sure if he was going to kick the can I was going to try to kick the can in the direction of life for him. He wasn't going to die on my watch!
He ate a bit more on Friday, took lots of naps and in the evening followed me to the basement and took another nap.
I hope his recuperation will go well. It is hard to say with an old cat. Right now I am following instructions I got from the library's encyclopedia of house cats. I'm giving him a few drops of olive oil. I'm giving him wet-cat food. I'm cleaning him. I'm telling him he will get through this. I'm hydrating him by force at times. Through these last few hard days I have had lots of help from the Chef but there has been an even more attentive nurse to El Gordo:
Bently hasn't left his side. He was with him in his worst moments. Came howling to the door when I got home and El Gordo was dying. And has stayed next to him at all times.
They are like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum from "Alice in Wonderland". Like Rozencranz and Guildenstern from "Hamlet". Like Vladmir and Estragon from "Waiting for Godot". They are buddies and I'm so glad they have each other.
For now, El Gordo isn't all better, but I think he is out of the shadow of death. And that gives me hope that he will live a bit longer. I need him to reach 20 one day.
With cats you never know if they are dying until they are really dead and stiff. I really feel like I should blog about kitten first aid help because there is so much I have learned over the last 14 years of living with these guys.
On Wednesday I noticed that the Cupcake wasn't feeling too good. He had vomited a lot and it wasn't a hairball kind of vomit. He looked sad and morose. I went to work hoping he would feel better. On Thursday I awoke to a howling sad El Gordo. He was bent in pain dragging his back legs behind him. He went to the litter box about 10 times screaming then vomiting. I immediately took him to the vet. Of course, my good vet wasn't there. She was out of town for the weekend. The vet there was young, ALLERGIC TO CATS and wanted to run every test in the world on El Gordo. He was miserable. We left the vet without a solid conclusion about what was killing him. I took him home, made him comfortable in a little basket and went to work for a few hours. Bad mistake on my part.
When I came home the house was covered in blood and other bodily fluids. El Gordo was foaming at the mouth, unable to walk and totally covered in every fluid possible. It was a tragedy. Luckily my husband got home at the same time, and having served his time working in the hospitals ER he knew what to do. He is a great doctor and incredible on-call vet. We had to throw away so many things and the chef washed the entire house in bleach. It was bad. I took my limp destroyed cat to the basement, gently gave him a warm bath in the big basement sink to wash away all his yuckies and put him in his basket with some fleece blankets on him. He stopped moving. I felt like this could be it. I called the vet to yell at her but what use was it? El Gordo wasn't moving. I sat next to him and recited Psalm 23 to him. I told him he was going to get through this and that I would help him. He opened an eye and I knew he was still alive.
Around 4 in the morning I went to check on him and he looked at me. I knew he had a good chance then. I served him some wet cat food and he licked a little in exhaustion then closed his eyes again. I stayed with him on Friday to make sure if he was going to kick the can I was going to try to kick the can in the direction of life for him. He wasn't going to die on my watch!
He ate a bit more on Friday, took lots of naps and in the evening followed me to the basement and took another nap.
I hope his recuperation will go well. It is hard to say with an old cat. Right now I am following instructions I got from the library's encyclopedia of house cats. I'm giving him a few drops of olive oil. I'm giving him wet-cat food. I'm cleaning him. I'm telling him he will get through this. I'm hydrating him by force at times. Through these last few hard days I have had lots of help from the Chef but there has been an even more attentive nurse to El Gordo:
Bently hasn't left his side. He was with him in his worst moments. Came howling to the door when I got home and El Gordo was dying. And has stayed next to him at all times.
They are like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum from "Alice in Wonderland". Like Rozencranz and Guildenstern from "Hamlet". Like Vladmir and Estragon from "Waiting for Godot". They are buddies and I'm so glad they have each other.
For now, El Gordo isn't all better, but I think he is out of the shadow of death. And that gives me hope that he will live a bit longer. I need him to reach 20 one day.
Comments
Post a Comment