One step forward, two steps back.
Jan. 26th, 2005 08:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
plonqIt was really hard to tell if Bit was making progress or not. On the one hand she's been very weak, and spends almost the whole day sleeping behind the change room door. On the other hand she's been fairly responsive to us when we've stopped in to visit with her.
Step Forward:
She can barely walk, but she has made a conscientious effort to try and user her litter box, rather than just lying in her own waste like she did before we took her in for treatment.
Slide back:
She has been drinking and peeing a lot - she's always been a heavy drinker, but this is more than usual. Not a good sign. It means she's dehydrated, and her kidneys aren't working right.
Step Forward:
We've been force-feeding her since she got home. Yesterday evening she actually ate a bit of the food on her own before I had to force-feed her the rest. It's only the second food that she's voluntarily eaten since we got her home. On the first day she worked at one of her treats and managed to eat one before she lost interest.
Slide back:
Last night she came limping out into the kitchen for a drink. When she was done, she turned around and lay down on the floor. I'm not sure if she was just too exhausted to move, or if she wanted to visit. She's been lonely in there behind the door. A moment later she had a bad siezure, gasping and twitching and convulsing on the floor. She lost bladder control during the siezure and peed where she lay. We've found a couple of wet spots in the hall where she didn't quite make it to the litter box, and now I wonder.
Lost hope:
I didn't force-feed her last night, nor did I this morning. I'm going to call the vet in a few minutes and make the inevitable appointment, but she's not making it easy for me. If she was so far gone that she no longer responded to us it would be one thing, but she's trying to be herself. She's just too dehydrated and weak.
I stopped in about ten minutes ago to check on her, and saw her sleeping. As I shut off the light and was tip-toeing out, I heard a wan "Mrorwr" from where she lay. I turned the light back on and found her blinking up at me. I lay down and talked to her and teased her ears for awhile (being careful not to talk too loud or shift too much since she flinches at every sound). She purred and weakly nuzzled my hand and curled her toes until her strength gave out and she put her head down again to sleep.
Last night while I lay there, trying to sleep while images of her convulsing on the floor played themselves out over and over again in my head, I reached a moment of clarity. We've done everything we could. We gave her a fighting chance, but her kidneys are too far gone. My girl is never going to get better. She's drowning in her own toxins, and she is only going to get sicker, and weaker, and suffer more convulsions until she dies.
[Edit: 9:30]
She's gone.
[Edit: 10:00]
I disabled comments on this post to spare y'all from the usual awkwardness of posts of "I'm sorry" and "My condolances". I'm sure you've all had to go through this at one time or another with a beloved pet, and just knowing that you're out there reading this is cause for some comfort. I couldn't have asked for a better cat, and she gave me 18 good years. Life goes on.
Step Forward:
She can barely walk, but she has made a conscientious effort to try and user her litter box, rather than just lying in her own waste like she did before we took her in for treatment.
Slide back:
She has been drinking and peeing a lot - she's always been a heavy drinker, but this is more than usual. Not a good sign. It means she's dehydrated, and her kidneys aren't working right.
Step Forward:
We've been force-feeding her since she got home. Yesterday evening she actually ate a bit of the food on her own before I had to force-feed her the rest. It's only the second food that she's voluntarily eaten since we got her home. On the first day she worked at one of her treats and managed to eat one before she lost interest.
Slide back:
Last night she came limping out into the kitchen for a drink. When she was done, she turned around and lay down on the floor. I'm not sure if she was just too exhausted to move, or if she wanted to visit. She's been lonely in there behind the door. A moment later she had a bad siezure, gasping and twitching and convulsing on the floor. She lost bladder control during the siezure and peed where she lay. We've found a couple of wet spots in the hall where she didn't quite make it to the litter box, and now I wonder.
Lost hope:
I didn't force-feed her last night, nor did I this morning. I'm going to call the vet in a few minutes and make the inevitable appointment, but she's not making it easy for me. If she was so far gone that she no longer responded to us it would be one thing, but she's trying to be herself. She's just too dehydrated and weak.
I stopped in about ten minutes ago to check on her, and saw her sleeping. As I shut off the light and was tip-toeing out, I heard a wan "Mrorwr" from where she lay. I turned the light back on and found her blinking up at me. I lay down and talked to her and teased her ears for awhile (being careful not to talk too loud or shift too much since she flinches at every sound). She purred and weakly nuzzled my hand and curled her toes until her strength gave out and she put her head down again to sleep.
Last night while I lay there, trying to sleep while images of her convulsing on the floor played themselves out over and over again in my head, I reached a moment of clarity. We've done everything we could. We gave her a fighting chance, but her kidneys are too far gone. My girl is never going to get better. She's drowning in her own toxins, and she is only going to get sicker, and weaker, and suffer more convulsions until she dies.
[Edit: 9:30]
She's gone.
[Edit: 10:00]
I disabled comments on this post to spare y'all from the usual awkwardness of posts of "I'm sorry" and "My condolances". I'm sure you've all had to go through this at one time or another with a beloved pet, and just knowing that you're out there reading this is cause for some comfort. I couldn't have asked for a better cat, and she gave me 18 good years. Life goes on.
