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- May 19, 2013
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Hi, I am new here, this is my kind of forum... I love cats and I never had one of my own until I fell in love with Newman, a big guy at the adoption cages in Pet smart one day about three years ago. He was 2 or 3 years old then and was curled up in his cage, and I watched for two full hours and not a single person even looked at him.. they only looked at the kittens and entertaining cats. I'll never forget the way he looked at me when I came up and he lifted his head and opened his beautiful yellow eyes, one of which was clouded over, from someone throwing him out of a moving vehicle on the highway, I was later informed...
They told me he's a big boy. They told me, he's been there so long. Months. I fell in love. I bought him all his stuff. The good food, the same kind of scratching post that they had in the kitty room there. The same litter box and litter, and a thousand toys. I felt like a new mother on the ride home. I was so excited and eager for him to like me. I was so worried, I wanted to make him comfortable and happy. I had taken in my first animal of my own, my first baby, this big boy cat who would rely totally on me. For health, for love and shelter.
I remember first opening his crate. I remember he was immediately curious and excited. He started playing with the toys immediately. He purred so hard and was so happy. I remember he weighed 16.5lbs on his first checkup. He now weighs 7.
I remember how he used to play in his litter box, flattening himself out and leaping out with an excited growl, racing around the room. I remember he used to spend every night on the back of my leather computer chair while I played video games or did homework or surfed the net. I remember how he loved to play and race around the room, and I remember how he could easily land a jump from the top of my 7ft high desk to the floor. His meows were loud and strong and sweet. He never touched a piece of furniture with his claws. He never had an accident. He ate two full bowls of kibble a day.
Newman has been the best friend of me for three years, me..a 20 year old girl who is a bit of a hermit. Newman saw me through my high school graduation. He waited at my window almost every day, watching for me to come home. He was there when I started college. He was here when I got my first apartment to myself a year ago. He has been in many road trips with me and has always been a big, squishy, obliging pillow for me to hug when I'm sad or down. When I had night terrors and woke up crying and terrified, my first thought.. "where's Newman?" And as soon as I find him I feel better. I can be across the whole house and call him, and no matte where he is he will come running. He followed me everywhere. He meowed at my door when I was gone, when I was living at my parents house still.
...and now he, I cant even type through the tears. And now he weighs 7 pounds. Every vertebra pokes out. His fur is loose. His hips are sharp and stick out visibly. He is so weak he can just barely manage to slide himself off of the bed. His little voice is almost mute, so scratchy and thin. His back side smells bad because he doesn't have the strength to clean himself back there any more. He has constant diarrhea. He barely eats a bowl of kibble in the last week. He can barely chew raw meat. He does nothing at all but sleep. His abdomen is huge and swollen with abdominal effusions of a yellowish liquid. This causes him discomfort, in which he can barely lay down. He doesn't move for hours on end. He looks like a skeleton in an oversized fur coat and with a swollen, hanging belly.
And he still tries to get up every time I get home. He will open his little mouth and try to scratch out a meow every time I say his name to him. He still rubs on my legs whenever he is up near me.. he still kneads his claws on my arm like a baby and tries to suckle my arm as if I'm his mommy. He still tries to quirkily bury his food like he always has.
The vet has seen him multiple times over the last month, now. It has been one month since I first noticed the weight loss getting bad. I noticed I could feel his hips slightly, and his collar was loose. So I took him. She mentioned FIP. We ran tests. Every test points to FIP. There's no way to be sure its FIP. She said, there's a slim chance it might be IBD or abdominal cancer. But she said she is 80% sure its FIP. There is no cure for FIP. There is no treatment for FIP. There is only "make your best friend in the entire world, as comfortable as possible, until he dies". I got his stomach drained two weeks ago. It is now full again, of that liquid high in protein, while he dies of starvation and malnutrition because his body can't absorb any if the nutrients in the food he eats. I'm giving him raw meats. He isn't really interested. Only a little bit interested. He can barely crunch his kibble. It falls out of his mouth and on to the ground.
I am holding out on the desperate and foolish hope that it might be IBD like she said. We have him on prednisolone corticosteroid once a day. It doesn't change anything. He's been on it two weeks with no change. Every bone in his skeleton sticks out. He weighs nothing. NOTHING.
I can't describe the pain I feel right now. I can't believe I will probably have to have my best friend euthanized. I can't believe I will probably watch him take his last breath. After only three years with him. He is amazing. I could never have asked for a better, more beautiful, amazing friend. He is my first baby. I wanted him to be my future first born's first kitty cat...I wanted him to be the first cat in my first future house that I buy.. I wanted to put him in a stupid little groom outfit for my future wedding. I wanted to spend another 10 or 15 years with Newman. Not 3. I'm watching my best friend waste away before my eyes. I'm terrified I'm letting him suffer needlessly. But I'm more terrified that if I choose euthanasia, while there's this uncertainty, and IBD is treatable with diet changes and corticosterods, that if I choose euthanasia that I will kill my best friends for no reason. I couldn't live with that knowledge.
I'm sorry if this breaks any rules. If this is inappropriate,or I'f it is in the wrong place. I guess I'm looking for advice. I have been crying for hours every night I cry myself to sleep. I love him so much. I am a loner, with very few friends, none of them close. When I love, I love so powerfully , and I love this cat, Newman, as much as my family, and it hurts so badly right now. To see him like this. I called the vvet. They open tomorrow. I'm going to get his stomach drained again. I'm going to see if I can give him some kind of nutrient or vitamnin shot myself or if they can do it, and bypass his malabsorbing intestinal tract and get him some nutrients that way. My heart breaks more and more every day he is losing more weight. Slowing down more. Now he hides under the bed some times. I think I would lose it if I came home and he had died alone like that. I think I could not cope. I worry what I might do to myself.
I just wanted to get this off my shoulders. My mom said, I can get his little paw prints mold on a plaque. Do you know how much it hurts? To think that all you'll have of your best friend and baby is some paw prints on a plaque. God I'm burst into tears again. A whole month of this. I hope he somehow gets better. But , I know he won't. I don't know what to do. God help me.
They told me he's a big boy. They told me, he's been there so long. Months. I fell in love. I bought him all his stuff. The good food, the same kind of scratching post that they had in the kitty room there. The same litter box and litter, and a thousand toys. I felt like a new mother on the ride home. I was so excited and eager for him to like me. I was so worried, I wanted to make him comfortable and happy. I had taken in my first animal of my own, my first baby, this big boy cat who would rely totally on me. For health, for love and shelter.
I remember first opening his crate. I remember he was immediately curious and excited. He started playing with the toys immediately. He purred so hard and was so happy. I remember he weighed 16.5lbs on his first checkup. He now weighs 7.
I remember how he used to play in his litter box, flattening himself out and leaping out with an excited growl, racing around the room. I remember he used to spend every night on the back of my leather computer chair while I played video games or did homework or surfed the net. I remember how he loved to play and race around the room, and I remember how he could easily land a jump from the top of my 7ft high desk to the floor. His meows were loud and strong and sweet. He never touched a piece of furniture with his claws. He never had an accident. He ate two full bowls of kibble a day.
Newman has been the best friend of me for three years, me..a 20 year old girl who is a bit of a hermit. Newman saw me through my high school graduation. He waited at my window almost every day, watching for me to come home. He was there when I started college. He was here when I got my first apartment to myself a year ago. He has been in many road trips with me and has always been a big, squishy, obliging pillow for me to hug when I'm sad or down. When I had night terrors and woke up crying and terrified, my first thought.. "where's Newman?" And as soon as I find him I feel better. I can be across the whole house and call him, and no matte where he is he will come running. He followed me everywhere. He meowed at my door when I was gone, when I was living at my parents house still.
...and now he, I cant even type through the tears. And now he weighs 7 pounds. Every vertebra pokes out. His fur is loose. His hips are sharp and stick out visibly. He is so weak he can just barely manage to slide himself off of the bed. His little voice is almost mute, so scratchy and thin. His back side smells bad because he doesn't have the strength to clean himself back there any more. He has constant diarrhea. He barely eats a bowl of kibble in the last week. He can barely chew raw meat. He does nothing at all but sleep. His abdomen is huge and swollen with abdominal effusions of a yellowish liquid. This causes him discomfort, in which he can barely lay down. He doesn't move for hours on end. He looks like a skeleton in an oversized fur coat and with a swollen, hanging belly.
And he still tries to get up every time I get home. He will open his little mouth and try to scratch out a meow every time I say his name to him. He still rubs on my legs whenever he is up near me.. he still kneads his claws on my arm like a baby and tries to suckle my arm as if I'm his mommy. He still tries to quirkily bury his food like he always has.
The vet has seen him multiple times over the last month, now. It has been one month since I first noticed the weight loss getting bad. I noticed I could feel his hips slightly, and his collar was loose. So I took him. She mentioned FIP. We ran tests. Every test points to FIP. There's no way to be sure its FIP. She said, there's a slim chance it might be IBD or abdominal cancer. But she said she is 80% sure its FIP. There is no cure for FIP. There is no treatment for FIP. There is only "make your best friend in the entire world, as comfortable as possible, until he dies". I got his stomach drained two weeks ago. It is now full again, of that liquid high in protein, while he dies of starvation and malnutrition because his body can't absorb any if the nutrients in the food he eats. I'm giving him raw meats. He isn't really interested. Only a little bit interested. He can barely crunch his kibble. It falls out of his mouth and on to the ground.
I am holding out on the desperate and foolish hope that it might be IBD like she said. We have him on prednisolone corticosteroid once a day. It doesn't change anything. He's been on it two weeks with no change. Every bone in his skeleton sticks out. He weighs nothing. NOTHING.
I can't describe the pain I feel right now. I can't believe I will probably have to have my best friend euthanized. I can't believe I will probably watch him take his last breath. After only three years with him. He is amazing. I could never have asked for a better, more beautiful, amazing friend. He is my first baby. I wanted him to be my future first born's first kitty cat...I wanted him to be the first cat in my first future house that I buy.. I wanted to put him in a stupid little groom outfit for my future wedding. I wanted to spend another 10 or 15 years with Newman. Not 3. I'm watching my best friend waste away before my eyes. I'm terrified I'm letting him suffer needlessly. But I'm more terrified that if I choose euthanasia, while there's this uncertainty, and IBD is treatable with diet changes and corticosterods, that if I choose euthanasia that I will kill my best friends for no reason. I couldn't live with that knowledge.
I'm sorry if this breaks any rules. If this is inappropriate,or I'f it is in the wrong place. I guess I'm looking for advice. I have been crying for hours every night I cry myself to sleep. I love him so much. I am a loner, with very few friends, none of them close. When I love, I love so powerfully , and I love this cat, Newman, as much as my family, and it hurts so badly right now. To see him like this. I called the vvet. They open tomorrow. I'm going to get his stomach drained again. I'm going to see if I can give him some kind of nutrient or vitamnin shot myself or if they can do it, and bypass his malabsorbing intestinal tract and get him some nutrients that way. My heart breaks more and more every day he is losing more weight. Slowing down more. Now he hides under the bed some times. I think I would lose it if I came home and he had died alone like that. I think I could not cope. I worry what I might do to myself.
I just wanted to get this off my shoulders. My mom said, I can get his little paw prints mold on a plaque. Do you know how much it hurts? To think that all you'll have of your best friend and baby is some paw prints on a plaque. God I'm burst into tears again. A whole month of this. I hope he somehow gets better. But , I know he won't. I don't know what to do. God help me.
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