We had a very sad cat-tragedy last night.
It started about a week ago when Duncan started rolling around on the floor and pushing his legs out. It was clear something was wrong and he couldn't stand up. First we thought it was a seizure, but it didn't fit the google criteria for a seizure. Then we thought it was a little stroke cuz we just did. But within 15 minutes he was all better and we didn't think much more about it.
Then last night I saw him trying to crawl into our hutch and it was obvious his back legs weren't working. Since we'd also found a pee spot in our bedroom and the dining room rug also had a leak, my immediate suspicion was renal failure. By the time we saw him lying in the litter box, Dave had fixed up the cat carrier and whisked him to the emergency vet.
I thought for sure we would spend a bit of money and they would flush him with fluids and everything would be OK.
But instead, it wasn't renal failure. It was a very large bloodclot in his leg that had cut off his blood supply and his feeling. And apparently, he was throwing another clot in his other leg and was beginning to suffer. (Can I point out this this all occurred within about 2 hours!?) The choices were a $1000 treatment in which the vet had never known to be successful or put him to sleep. (Again...THOSE are the options!?!? Wasn't there a middle ground somewhere?? A few days of not really a lot of suffering and a chance to say a proper goodbye?????)
But the clots were not moving, his limbs were getting cold and he was apparently coming into a lot of pain. I understand that he was getting very sick and that losing circulation in one's limbs is never good and that they can't run a catheter into a 16 year old crippled cat and expect everything to come out hunky dory.
But nonetheless, I am very sad. Because Conor was in bed and I was at home, I didn't get to give him one last head scratch before he went to sleep. Dave was there and said it was very peaceful and Duncan apparently seemed ready for it.
But I feel a little robbed of a few more days with Duncan and a chance to say a proper goodbye. Quick partings are very difficult, even if they are with a sweet, if somewhat slow, little cat.