We got Lucy as a kitten about ten years ago. Mary wanted a half-Siamese to replace Sherman, who was all black and didn’t talk so much as squeak. In Lucy, we got the noisy half.
A good thing, too: we had a kitten, Amy (another half-Siamese), who had somehow managed to get trapped next to the dishwasher and couldn’t get out. It was Lucy who raised hell until we went out to see what was wrong. Thanks to her, we managed to get Amy out safely and unharmed.
We also adopted two kittens, Homer and Jethro, from the guy next door, who worked at a scrap yard where there were a lot of feral cats. They trapped, neutered and released the mothers, and took the kittens so they wouldn’t become feral. Anyway, Mary and I had just lost Larry, who was an orange tabby who lived twenty years, just that morning, and before I could stop her, she had picked out the two orange tabbies and said, “I’ll have these!” We brought them into the house and did what we always did when we got a new cat: set them on the floor and let them wander around and meet the others. When we did that, we had the shock of our lives: they were too young to walk.
We took them to the vet, who explained to us that they were about a month old and hadn’t been weaned, which meant that we would have to bottle feed them, then use a dishrag to stimulate their little bowels into going. Fortunately, we didn’t have to do the latter, because Lucy, still technically a kitten herself, took over and cleaned the two of them up and did so until they no longer needed that sort of help.
Recently, as I posted earlier, Lucy hadn’t been doing well. She was hiding and getting skinny and a little weak. The vet had given us medicine to help her, and she did all right for about a week or two. We took her in Tuesday so they could draw blood and give her some fluids, because she looked a bit punk. She slept most of the rest of that day Tuesday and yesterday, and was pretty much out of it both days.
The vet called yesterday, and told us that while her phosphorus level was great, her creatinin (I’m not sure about that; it might be creatine) was sky-high, and to fix it would require hospitalization, more medicine, and us giving her subcutaneous fluids almost every day. Then, maybe she’d live another few months.
Mary and I discussed it, and decided that if the best they could promise was a few months, it wasn’t worth putting her (and ourselves) through the suffering. After discussion, we decided it was time to say goodbye and send her to be with Toby (who she came with) and all of the other cats we’ve lost over the years.
Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, she came into the bedroom and it was like having the old Lucy back. In short, she was being a pain in the ass, clawing me when I was trying to sleep, then settling down. She slept with me all night, and I was starting to think that maybe we didn’t have to do it right away. However, when we put her into the cat carrier to eat, she wouldn’t, and was howling as only a Siamese (or the noisy half of one) can, and we knew we were doing the right thing.
Anyway, thanks for listening.