She's had an ongoing loose poo problem for a while. Probiotics helped somewhat, but not one hundred percent. We just dealt with it. She was bathed about twice a week to keep her cleaned up, in the morning when we first got up, lights were turned on and floors examined and cleaned before anything she'd left was stepped in.
It's just what we did. Our morning ritual.
Last weekend, her belly got really big. She looked pregnant. She had some sort of nasty stuff leaking out of her butt. Her fur was all yellow around her genital area. I tried my best to keep it cleaned off, I was concerned with urine scald, like on babies in diapers. And her back legs were extremely bowlegged and much weaker than they'd been. The gas she passed was most foul. She couldn't jump up on stuff.
I gave her milk thistle and digestive enzymes on the advice of a friend. I gave her 60CC of fluids twice a day, but she couldn't stay hydrated. She couldn't eat. She wanted to, but she had a hard time with it. Baby food worked for her. I put it in a shallow dish (actually the top of an old Tupperware bowl) and kept the other cats away while she lapped at the medicated baby food.
Yesterday morning, her belly had actually gone down some. That was a positive sign, I told myself. But I also knew, she needed medical intervention. If she were to get better. Whatever was going on with her was out of my league. I called and made an appointment for her and said that it was quite possible she wouldn't be coming home with us.
She ate three jars of baby food yesterday, actually coming into the office and getting my attention to feed her. But her belly got bigger. I gave her fluids and she was able to make her way into the cat trees in the living room and she spent most of the day there. A little before five, we left for the vet's office.
The tech got a background of what was going on and the vet came in and looked her over and palpated her tummy. He felt a large tumor by her liver. Which would explain everything. The loose, stinky stool, the fact that she couldn't get hydrated, her weakened back legs. And we knew the kindest thing to do was let her go. She went quickly and peacefully.
It's been a tough year. Losing Potter and Skip was a shock. Mystie really wasn't. She was seventeen and had ongoing health problems. But she was always there with us at night. On the sofa, on the loveseat. In the kitchen wanting food.
She's going to be missed.