Kizmet

 a dear demented little shi spun his way into our life a couple of years ago ... we optimistically hoped his issues might be behavioural in nature but it was not to be. Lesions had attached themselves to Kizmet's brain and fogged his mind substantially.  The wonderful Dr Au came up with a bit of a wait and see plan for him. After 2 weeks Kiz could move in a straight line unless he was excited (then the spinning re-emerged). He was no longer always growling when picked up (he was so confused he would both wag his tail and growl and air snap) and he was eating. The last two years were fairly stable. He slept, a lot, and pottered around. He loved his meals and we loved him.
The last couple of weeks the fog seemed to get denser ... he wouldn't always see us, he couldn't always stop himself spinning and he started growling again.
It was hard to do but I feel a deep responsibility to our palliative foster friends not to let them suffer. And Kizmet was approaching suffering. And that sucked.
His death was peaceful and immediate-nearly as soon as the first drip of euthanol touched his vein he was gone. Another good friend will be waiting for us at the Rainbow Bridge.

She was no Queen ..

Kali, Kaylie, KCat is gone
Dead and gone and stirring up the rainbow bridge something fierce if I know her.
Wednesday night she was a little quiet - unhappy about something she sat on my lap and the computer but didn't really want to eat her extra canned food at bedtime. Thursday morning I could see something was seriously wrong- she was checking out. She was cold and accepted blankets and a hot pack for quite awhile but more seriously there was nothing I could do to tempt her to eat. Even her much favoured Pill Pockets didn't even provoke a sniff. Poached chicken, warmed baby food, ad - nothing - she simply didn't want to eat. She was happy enough to have company: dogs, cats and people. She wasn't pushy though .. and that is not like her.

She battled her cancer for well over a year - and probably longer - her indomitable spirit kept her jumping on the fridge, telling off cats, batting little fake mice around the house, insisting on her nightly cuddles long after her blood values suggested she should be unable to walk let alone play. It was a bone marrow cancer of some sort - being Kali once we had a diagnosis we didn't do much invasive stuff - she was not a fan of being handled on terms other than her own. We did a home course of chemo, and she was on pred and fortekor (she developed a heart murmur somewhere in the last year of her life) but apart from those daily meds we let her be. We did do two transfusions - one was for her in September as she so clearly wasn't ready to go and one was just before Christmas which, truth be told, was for me - losing two souls I loved dearly in the space of a week was more than I could bear. The first transfusion gave her excellent quality of life for nearly 4 months. The second did the same for three weeks. I would do both again in the same circumstances. A third transfusion simply wasn't feasible today though - Kali's body was SO WEAK it just wouldn't have been fair. I think more was going on as well - the lack of appetite was not typical at all of the last 8 months with her.
Unlike Dumont Kali was not ready to go - she fought death with every action -even trying to walk away from her carrier as I prepared it for the drive to Danforth. Dr Au, Debbie and I considered all options - it was hard for all of us to accept that the end really had come. However there wasn't much we hadn't tried to extend her quality and quantity of life and we all realized that anything we could do short term might result in suffering or pain. To imagine Kali suffering was impossible to us all.
I held her for the catheter - no other cat would have needed it if as weak as she was but she was Kali - and I was glad we had. She was very restless afterwards and took some time to settle back down. Once the euthanol hit her vein her weak body gratefully drifted away even as she puffed her breath into my face as hard as she could. What a funny, spiritual, spirited girl she was.
Impossible to imagine life without our funny tricoloured cat. She is a force to be reckoned with!

There is a poem I often find small comfort in in times like this - it could have been written for our girl

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,

I am the swift, uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there, I did not die!
Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the song that will never end.

I am the love of family and friend.

I am the child who has come to rest

In the arms of the Father who knows him best.

When you see the sunset fair,

I am the scented evening air.

I am the joy of a task well done.

I am the glow of the setting sun.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.

I am not there, I did not die!
~ Mary E. Frye ~

The King is Dead: Long Live the King

Dumont was a people cat, he was a dog cat, a cat cat and just an all round patriarchial kind of soul; heck everybody who met him loved him. He was ever the gentlemen - greeting all who came to our house with an inquisitive sniff and quite often a lick and a cuddle. He was glossy and beautiful - black with a lovely even, perfect tuxedo of white marking his legs and face. He was playful and compassionate - chasing toys and entertaining the animal baby fosters in the house for hours or simply lying with an older or sick soul, no matter the species. Patient to a fault he taught many a small child how to interact politely with a pet and why it's important to pat in the direction of the hair. He loved going to our friends houses for visits and would make himself quite at home anywhere. He taught dogs, cats and even large parrots our house rules and he will be sadly missed. He liked to be held, enjoy sitting on laps but was content to sit beside you or along the back of the couch too. He was part of an epic - a piece of 36 years of loving individual cats for me.

We adopted him the day after my first cat Rum died - I was in university and had gone to the clinic to pay the bill. The vet asked if we were looking for another pet and I said no. I was told the sad tale of this adorable four month old who had been abandoned when the owners couldn't pay for the needed surgery to remove a foreign object from his throat (time has faded the memory or the object - it was either a coin or a bone). The humane society arrived to pick him up and they were sent away. I left the clinic empty handed and when I got home my new hubby asked how it had gone. (He had never lived with any animal apart from his brothers before meeting me!) I told him the story of the abandoned soul and he looked behind me for a new addition. When I realized he was serious we raced back to the clinic to pick up Dumont.

(The original Dumont was Gabriel Dumont- Louis Riel's right hand in the Rebellions - we figured our Dumont had to have a bit of rebel in him to have ended up on our doorstep)

Dumont lived with us for 18 years - more or less a few days - he was the picture of health - right up to a little crisis last fall. He had surgery to remove a tumour on his midline at that time - our vet was sure it would be a mammary tumour but it turned out to be another tumour - a tumour common to dogs but rather unusual in domestic short haired cats. The surgery went well and he blossomed quickly - gaining weight and going back to sleek and active until about a month ago.

He had a bad episode of digestive upset and when I took him to the vet the blood results showed he had critical renal failure. We did aggressive fluid and antibiotic therapy which he responded well too then I took him home with fluids - he happily accepted occasional sub q fluids til last week then he started resisting. This was a cat who didn't resist anything so I felt very strongly he wanted the fluids to stop. It nearly killed me but I honoured his request and he continued to eat, purr and sleep on my head until Thursday.

I contemplated calling for a mobile vet for euthanasia - or taking him to our much loved vet for the procedure but he seemed quite determined to lie on the bed I set up for him in the kitchen and hold court. He wasn't in pain and he derived great comfort from having his family around him. I have some Valium and pain meds on hand but didn't need to give him any of either. I sat (and lay) with him non stop from 10 pm on ... he would fall asleep and wake up to find one of the cats gently touching him - licking his head, laying a paw over him or his sniffing his face gently. If his head slipped off me as soon as he awoke he'd carefully lift his head and wait til my hand was cradling his head again. It was quite a beautiful thing. The patriarch of the house - who had greeted each and every one of the animals present there now said goodbye to all but the bunny and the birds. He took his last breaths around 1:30 or so and his heart stopped beating a short time later. The change in energy in the room when he left was eerie.

He was an amazing friend and a very special part of our family. We will miss him enormously. He has left a hole that no one will be able to fill. (Why oh why do we keep loving them when losing them is inevitable?)
I told him to take care of all our friends (yours and mine) who await us at the bridge - and I can assure you that no matter the species he'll do his thing - in his gentle loving way - the rainbow bridge is a better place tonight.