And then there were thirty-three.
Earlier this week (or last week, it’s Sunday, isn’t it), Lisa had a hard time eating. She cried out in pain when trying to swallow. So, Thursday afternoon, I was able to get her in to the doctor. The regular doc was not there, but the doctor who was there looked at her mouth, declared a stomatitis flare-up, prescribed Clindamycin with Torbugesic. I gave her one dose Thursday night and again Friday morning, but I didn’t like the way she looked. Her eyes were dilated (same as when I took her in) and her breathing was labored (one of the things I mentioned when I called asking if I could bring her in).
She kept purring the entire time and she wouldn’t sleep. At least, she wasn’t closing her eyes. Earlier today, I gave her fluids, because many times a cat is dehydrated and fluids help. Her mouth was very dry, the pred I’d given her earlier fell out of her mouth a couple of hours later, as dry as when I gave it to her.
Not this time. She had a little rally around six, I gave her Clindamycin and it was downhill from there.
I’d put Lisa in the bathroom earlier today so that I could keep an eye on her. I had her set up with a special bed with a heating pad underneath, lots of blankets, food, water, and a litter box. She’d get into the bed, I’d cover her with the blanket, she’d rest her head, but she never closed her eyes. It was the strangest thing. Before we went to bed, I let her out and she went to the bedroom. I put her up on the bed and she ended up on my pillow. I slept on the sofa for a while, then went to bed. She was next to Brian. Well, he had some sort of coughing fit and she jumped down. I looked for her and she had come back to the office, just laying on the floor by the catcam chair, breathing hard. I took her back to the bedroom and I told him that she was dying.
I didn’t think she was going to be getting any better, she was getting worse and worse as the hours went by. I was afraid she was in pain, the breathing had never gotten better and it was spooky that she didn’t close her eyes. After the ordeal with Wally, we’re thinking we don’t want to put her through what he went through. I told him “let’s take her down”. I could tell he wanted to wait to see if the fluids helped and the antibiotic were kicking in, wait until Sunday. I saw a kitty in obvious distress.
We took her down.
The first surprise was she was blind. That would explain why she wouldn’t close her eyes. The second, she had fluid in her lungs. Her heart was giving out. There was nothing we could do about it. Yeah, sure, medication might have extended her life another six months, but at what cost? She might have gotten her sight back, but there was no guarantee.
And it kept coming back to Wally. We tried so hard with him, to what end? He died. His heart stopped. He was unhappy and uncomfortable in that tank and I would not put Lisa through that. Neither of us would.
So, we said our goodbyes.
I hate this. Three cats in six weeks. I effing hate this.