We lost our sweet, shy, cross-eyed guy Marley to kidney failure yesterday. We knew it was coming, but it's still such a hard thing to have to accept.
Marley was one of a litter of three feral kittens born near my home in 2012. I was trying to get all the neighbourhood cats TNR'd and had been feeding his mother for a few months before the kittens were born. As soon as they were able to Marley and his brother and sister started following mum to the food. I thought they were young enough to try and socialize, so decided to coax them indoors and set up a spare bedroom as a kitten room for them. The other two kittens soon warmed up to people, but Marley kept his wild side. He spent his first month indoors hiding in the closet, only eating or using the litter box if no one was around. It was obvious he was never going to be tame enough to rehome. But that was OK. If he wanted to live with us on his own terms we didn't mind.
He was an intelligent, handsome boy who watched our every move, but sometimes gave us a look that let us know he trusted us.
After about a year of very slow coaxing Marley started to accept pets. It was always on his terms. You couldn't just walk up to him and touch him the way we could with our other house cats. But if you turned your attention to something else and stayed still Marley would slink up to you and brush gently against your legs. If you waited until he was eating he might allow your hand to graze his back. One day, when I held out my hand and he bumped his head against it before walking off, I knew I was making progress. When we bought a new home with a big plot of land a few years back, we trapped Marley again and brought him with us. Now he would have a safe enclosure to live in, as well as run of the house.
About this time last year I started to notice that Marley was losing weight. His coat was rough and disheveled and his eyes had lost some of their lustre. He still couldn't be handled enough to be picked up, so the only way to get him to the vet was to trap him again. This took about a month. When we got him to the vet he had to be sedated before they could examine him. Blood tests showed that his kidneys were failing. If he had been the kind of cat that could be brought in for regular treatment they could have tried regular tests and SubQ fluids, but Marley was not that kind of cat. The best we could do was daily medication to mix with his food and a special diet.
For most of the year it seemed to be working. Marley didn't gain much weight back, but he ate well and seemed to be more comfortable. I think he enjoyed his life as much as he always had done.
About a week ago he stopped eating. I tried all of his favourite treats, but nothing interested him. I think he knew he was dying. A few days ago he came and sat between me and my husband as we were talking and let us both pet him. I could feel every knot of his spine, his hip bones and even the back of his skull seemed to poke through his fur. But he rested his front paw and chin on my leg for a while. That was as close as he ever came to sitting on my lap. Thank you Marley, I am so grateful for that.
Eventually I decided to risk syringe feeding him. By that time he was too weak to put up much of a fight and allowed me to feed him a high calorie paste laced with his medication. Sadly it didn't do much good. When I checked on him on Friday night he was sleeping in his box. When I woke up on Saturday morning he was gone.
We buried him in the enclosure next to our dear old Mu, who passed this summer. They always got along well together. They're together forever now.
Marley, my wild and handsome boy. I don't want to remember how thin you felt as I held you, or how you tottered and stumbled as you walked. Instead I want to remember that long legged lope of yours, the way your tail bent over at the tip. Most of all I want to remember how you'd look at me with a gaze full of such love and trust that I wanted to scoop you up, to hold you close and snuggle my face against yours.
You would never have allowed such a thing. But please know, my love, that in my heart that's what I was doing.
Marley was one of a litter of three feral kittens born near my home in 2012. I was trying to get all the neighbourhood cats TNR'd and had been feeding his mother for a few months before the kittens were born. As soon as they were able to Marley and his brother and sister started following mum to the food. I thought they were young enough to try and socialize, so decided to coax them indoors and set up a spare bedroom as a kitten room for them. The other two kittens soon warmed up to people, but Marley kept his wild side. He spent his first month indoors hiding in the closet, only eating or using the litter box if no one was around. It was obvious he was never going to be tame enough to rehome. But that was OK. If he wanted to live with us on his own terms we didn't mind.
He was an intelligent, handsome boy who watched our every move, but sometimes gave us a look that let us know he trusted us.
After about a year of very slow coaxing Marley started to accept pets. It was always on his terms. You couldn't just walk up to him and touch him the way we could with our other house cats. But if you turned your attention to something else and stayed still Marley would slink up to you and brush gently against your legs. If you waited until he was eating he might allow your hand to graze his back. One day, when I held out my hand and he bumped his head against it before walking off, I knew I was making progress. When we bought a new home with a big plot of land a few years back, we trapped Marley again and brought him with us. Now he would have a safe enclosure to live in, as well as run of the house.
About this time last year I started to notice that Marley was losing weight. His coat was rough and disheveled and his eyes had lost some of their lustre. He still couldn't be handled enough to be picked up, so the only way to get him to the vet was to trap him again. This took about a month. When we got him to the vet he had to be sedated before they could examine him. Blood tests showed that his kidneys were failing. If he had been the kind of cat that could be brought in for regular treatment they could have tried regular tests and SubQ fluids, but Marley was not that kind of cat. The best we could do was daily medication to mix with his food and a special diet.
For most of the year it seemed to be working. Marley didn't gain much weight back, but he ate well and seemed to be more comfortable. I think he enjoyed his life as much as he always had done.
About a week ago he stopped eating. I tried all of his favourite treats, but nothing interested him. I think he knew he was dying. A few days ago he came and sat between me and my husband as we were talking and let us both pet him. I could feel every knot of his spine, his hip bones and even the back of his skull seemed to poke through his fur. But he rested his front paw and chin on my leg for a while. That was as close as he ever came to sitting on my lap. Thank you Marley, I am so grateful for that.
Eventually I decided to risk syringe feeding him. By that time he was too weak to put up much of a fight and allowed me to feed him a high calorie paste laced with his medication. Sadly it didn't do much good. When I checked on him on Friday night he was sleeping in his box. When I woke up on Saturday morning he was gone.
We buried him in the enclosure next to our dear old Mu, who passed this summer. They always got along well together. They're together forever now.
Marley, my wild and handsome boy. I don't want to remember how thin you felt as I held you, or how you tottered and stumbled as you walked. Instead I want to remember that long legged lope of yours, the way your tail bent over at the tip. Most of all I want to remember how you'd look at me with a gaze full of such love and trust that I wanted to scoop you up, to hold you close and snuggle my face against yours.
You would never have allowed such a thing. But please know, my love, that in my heart that's what I was doing.