icu kitty

darth-salem-emperor-of-earth replied to your postmy mom had to take dweeb cat to the vet on the…

Aww, poor kitty! I hope you found out what’s wrong soon. :(

me too–my mom said they’re keeping him for observation again tonight, but he’s like…in kitty ICU, so he’s isolated, and he’s not used to that since he’s normally an outdoor roamer. my mom said he looked depressed when she went to visit him earlier today :/

It got bad really fast, it looked like really out of control lymphoma. She did not show any symptoms until about Monday, but once that happens the decline is so fast in cats. Her pee was normal, she always made it to the litter, she was playing on Monday. She ate her hairball treats. Two days ago she was disinterested without a lot of appetite. By this afternoon her organs were failing. We were still waiting on her biopsy (a non-serious-feeling hardness on the stomach) and blood results when we took her to the ER. They tried to stabilize her in the ICU–fluids, heat, oxygen–but imaging showed a bunch of masses and fluid around the kidneys, lungs, and belly. There is not really anything that can be done for it, or to avoid it. This happens to soo many cats and I want you to know that: be proactive with vet care all the time, but this happens to cats. It isn’t your fault if this happens to you. We were the 1% of pet parents and it happened to us. Cats aren’t put on earth to keep us company for as long as it makes us happy. That’s the horrible truth. Cats are integral parts of human-nonhuman animal society–ecosystem–and the best we can do for them as human partners is keep them from suffering. Validate their agency and inner lives as complex and crucial beings without making them carry our baggage. Cats do not consider death as humans do. A drawn-out, invasive medical intervention with almost no expectation of long-term recovery of quality or duration of life is human projection, and subjection.

If we had not taken Squid into the ER she would undoubtedly have died alone at home tonight, struggling and miserable. The ER gave us what we needed in order to make a decision that wasn’t… you know. The doctor said cats rarely recover from this, survive the surgery and live much more than weeks from there. All I wanted was to hold her and make sure she felt nothing except warmth, fuzz, sleep, and us. I was so afraid she would be alone and scared–a scaredy cat like her mom. The truth is, she wasn’t even in any pain to speak of–which is why this disease is such a son of a bitch–but she was barely with us at all anymore. I called Carly to ask her if this was right. The doctors were sure, if we even took her off “life support” in that kitty ICU she would have died and suffered. Instead she got the best kitty sedatives on the market, bundled up in warm towels, holding paws. She just went to sleep and it really was, honest to god, peaceful. She was only 13. And I am without my best friend, my only friend, my last family member, oldest friend, my whole world. But she should not have had to suffer to be those things for me, and I am glad she didn’t. And I can say almost with certainty that these last two years were the best of her life. She had a perfect cat life and an early, imperfect cat death.

Mostly I just want “space,” to be alone, to be sedated for a few days. I don’t know how I am going to live–I can’t understate that. But unlike cats, humans gotta suffer. It’s our ecological duty.

I also don’t want any kind of talk or thinking or suggestions about could-have-beens, if you don’t mind. Everybody dies and there was no last-minute intervention. This is how a lot of cats’ lives end. I will be here to help and talk if yours comes to this point.