Hello, everybody --
You might recall my original thread "Can someone, please shed some light..." about my male cat drooling and not being quite himself. I also expressed my fears about having brought to him the dreaded FIP virus on my clothes and shoes after visiting with a friend whose cat seems to have all the symptoms of that horrible sickness.
My cat shook his head and took his front paws to his face every time he ate, as if trying to dislodge some food caught between his teeth. An oral problem was immediately suspected and I set an appointment with the vet for this past Thursday. One hour before the appointment, I took out the pet carrier and, as soon as my cat saw it, he hid somewhere in the house. After looking for him and unable to find him, the appointment with the vet had to be cancelled and a new one set up for yesterday.
Yesterday I managed to get my boy in my bedroom and I closed all doors. Once I got ready, I tried to put him in the transporter. He hissed at me, he ran, he jumped and he threw himself against the doors trying to escape. My heart sunk. I did not want him to think that he was being punished. He was sort of feral when I first adopted him but I could pet him and he would rub against me when I was at the computer. His violent reaction to my intention to put him into the pet transporter caught me by surprise.
At the vet's office, he was calm but I warned the doctor about the tantrum that my boy had thrown and I said that I was afraid he might bite her. The vet's assistant took the boy out of the transporter and he was very docile.
As soon as the vet examined him she told me that either a tumor or a fractured jaw was the culprit. If it was a tumor, she said, the only alternative would be to put him to sleep because it is a very painful condition. I was shocked at the news of a fractured jaw and I thought about the way my boy threw himself violently against the doors, trying to avoid the cage. I felt guilty even though all I wanted to do is seek medical help for him.
The vet told me that she needed to sedate Clancy for a more throrough examination. She, then, presented me with a form of consent for treatment and possible surgery in case my guy needed to have the jaw steel wired. Of course, a $150.00 "deposit" at front was required (who knows how many times the vet has been burned by people dumping their pets on her)
Today I received a report about Clancy.
He, indeed, has a cancerous tumor that has eroded his jaw (hence the original thought of a fracture) and the vet has recommended euthanasia.
I have asked the vet to keep my boy comfortable (she offered the choice of an antibiotic) during the weekend. On Monday, God willing, I will pick him up and bring him home for a few hours to see his female companion of about eight years who is very depressed and missing him. Then, I will take him to an specialist even though the vet does not recommend it.
I wonder sometimes if all that glorious happiness that our pets bring into our lives is worth it when, in the end, we have to part with them in the worst way.
You might recall my original thread "Can someone, please shed some light..." about my male cat drooling and not being quite himself. I also expressed my fears about having brought to him the dreaded FIP virus on my clothes and shoes after visiting with a friend whose cat seems to have all the symptoms of that horrible sickness.
My cat shook his head and took his front paws to his face every time he ate, as if trying to dislodge some food caught between his teeth. An oral problem was immediately suspected and I set an appointment with the vet for this past Thursday. One hour before the appointment, I took out the pet carrier and, as soon as my cat saw it, he hid somewhere in the house. After looking for him and unable to find him, the appointment with the vet had to be cancelled and a new one set up for yesterday.
Yesterday I managed to get my boy in my bedroom and I closed all doors. Once I got ready, I tried to put him in the transporter. He hissed at me, he ran, he jumped and he threw himself against the doors trying to escape. My heart sunk. I did not want him to think that he was being punished. He was sort of feral when I first adopted him but I could pet him and he would rub against me when I was at the computer. His violent reaction to my intention to put him into the pet transporter caught me by surprise.
At the vet's office, he was calm but I warned the doctor about the tantrum that my boy had thrown and I said that I was afraid he might bite her. The vet's assistant took the boy out of the transporter and he was very docile.
As soon as the vet examined him she told me that either a tumor or a fractured jaw was the culprit. If it was a tumor, she said, the only alternative would be to put him to sleep because it is a very painful condition. I was shocked at the news of a fractured jaw and I thought about the way my boy threw himself violently against the doors, trying to avoid the cage. I felt guilty even though all I wanted to do is seek medical help for him.
The vet told me that she needed to sedate Clancy for a more throrough examination. She, then, presented me with a form of consent for treatment and possible surgery in case my guy needed to have the jaw steel wired. Of course, a $150.00 "deposit" at front was required (who knows how many times the vet has been burned by people dumping their pets on her)
Today I received a report about Clancy.
He, indeed, has a cancerous tumor that has eroded his jaw (hence the original thought of a fracture) and the vet has recommended euthanasia.
I have asked the vet to keep my boy comfortable (she offered the choice of an antibiotic) during the weekend. On Monday, God willing, I will pick him up and bring him home for a few hours to see his female companion of about eight years who is very depressed and missing him. Then, I will take him to an specialist even though the vet does not recommend it.
I wonder sometimes if all that glorious happiness that our pets bring into our lives is worth it when, in the end, we have to part with them in the worst way.