My older cat, Evie, was euthanized two days ago, late November 18th.
Hopefully the youtube embed works; that's the only video I had of her.
Evie was a wonderful pet. I loved her very much. I got Evie (andBelle) at the Animal Rescue League in Boston roughly 3 years ago. At the time they weren't sure of her age, but guessed it to be 5. This was a great pairing with Belle, who was still a kitten, and barely eligible to be adopted. I wasn't sure if I wanted 2 cats, but I figured since I was home so much, and really enjoyed animals, that 2>1. I thought they'd be able to play with each other, in the event they found me boring or preferred a feline companion.
I knew I wanted a kitten, since aside from small fluffy furry animals being overbearingly cute, I wanted to be able to bond with them immediately. A cat, although it's sad when they are up for adoption, would be harder to forge a bond I wanted. I wasn't sure if I was ready.
Evie was different. I fell in love with her from the moment I saw her in her cage: She was tiny, looked like a kitten, but behaved very much like a cat. She jumped on me immediately, and it seemed all she wanted in the world was to sleep on my lap.
This was different for me. I was used to active cats chasing balls and with the attention span of a 2 year old. I was told Evie had been the cat of an older lady who was no longer able to take care of her.
She had no teeth; they were removed at some point, but it did not cause Evie pain, and if anything, made her more adorable. In fact, often times she would "nom nom" on my fingers, trying to eat anything off my hands, which often felt like little kisses. I also called this "gumming" me, since that basically was what it was.
Evie had an insatiable appetite. We learned, over this past summer, this was likely due to hypothyroidism, but it always astounded me how a 4 pound cat could eat and eat and eat and yet never gain weight. I always wanted to fatten her up; although she was cute-skinny, this bordered on unhealthy-tiny this summer. I just wanted her to be healthy and happy.
My first year with the cats was a little odd; I wasn't technically allowed to have cats in that apartment, (I'm not one to follow those sorts of rules...) and I didn't respond to the idea of my cats sleeping with me. I had 2 bedrooms in that apartment, with an upstairs that was carpeted; it was an ideal play-area for Belle. Evie, on the other hand, would spend hours just sitting outside my door, pawing at the knob, trying to get in. All she wanted was to come in and sleep next to me. Sometimes I let her: It was me, not Evie, who forged the bond slowly.
I always tried to engage Evie by playing with her. It wasn't that she lacked energy; she expended a fair amount warding off Belle-attacks, and was always quick to follow me around the house, whether it was because of the possibility of food or simply because she loved companionship. It was that most of the time Evie just wasn't interested in whacking a play mouse. I made it a point while playing with "teasers", (such as a stick with some rope/mouse attached to it, or a thin wire with cardboard on the end) that Evie always "won". I never wanted her to lose interest simply because she wasn't able to catch her prey. I had an idea of leaving a 12-sided dice on my hardwood floor, a few months ago, and this quickly became her favorite toy. Really, the only toy that she would play with. She would follow the "clunk clunk clunk" religiously, only stopping to look at me when she knew I was staring.
It was amazing how Evie was capable of purring immediately when you put your head next to her. I couldn't use her as a pillow - she was much too small, far too frail - (I can with Belle, which is nice, as she's a bigger and softer) but just my presence near her would do the trick. I would rub her ears or her paws, and although she was slightly bothered by this, she never complained. The only time she meowed, really, was in anticipation of being served wet food. Oftentimes it was merely a "cmon Daddy, feed me already!" My favorite moments the past year were walking to the kitchen - the daily ritual which was a clear signal it was time for wet food -and having Evie and Belle RACE to me, as though the amount of food received was directly tied to who finished first. Evie normally won.
When I got home this summer from Vegas, after leaving them with my family friend Dick Wynn, (who had looked after them 2 summers ago) Evie was much skinnier. She wasn't well, and was having difficulty breathing. I had a vet appointment coming up, but changed it to an emergency appointment so she could be seen earlier. When I arrived, the vet fairly quickly told me she needed to go to the hospital. I had no idea her condition was as serious as it was.
At the animal hospital I feared the worst. Vets, like most professions, don't like assigning probabilities or making clear certainties. I asked what was wrong, and it was a wide ranging answer, which pretty much was hidden by "we wont know until we run some tests". She had a lot of nasal discharge which got to such a point that her constant sneezing was giving her bloody noses.
She was at the animal hospital for 3 days, where she was stabilized, and diagnosed with hypothyroidism (explained the weight) as well as URI. (Upper respiratory infection, explained the difficulty breathing) It wasn't clear what the root cause of the URIs were, although they suspected, although didn't come out and say it, cancer. The MRIs were exorbitantly expensive, so instead I chose the rational route: We'd treat her URIs with antibiotics and put her on drugs for hypothyroidism, which would in turn make her stronger, which again would help fend off any other infection. If it was cancer, it would become clear, and treatment at that point is too expensive, so we'd do this without all the expensive diagnostics.
At this point they told me it was more likely Evie was 13-15; that is the normal age range for hypothyroidism, and they suspected she had been dealing with it from the onset of when I adopted her. (Which explained the small stature)
The antibiotics sorta worked, then the nasal discharge would come back. There were good days - when she had full energy and no sneezes - accompanied by some bad days - which involved 20 second long sneeze attacks, resulting in a bloody nose. If you had never heard her sneeze before, it would be thought of as comical. I suspected the worst.
I put her on another trial of antibiotics 2 months ago, and again, it worked for a short time, but it was a short term gain followed by short term loss. She did gain some weight during this time, which made me hopeful for her recovery.
Evie had a checkup 2 weeks ago, exactly, with the vet. It was to monitor her blood levels. Apparently, although she was gaining weight, she wasn't taking enough drugs. We ~doubled her dose in the morning, and got a different antibiotic for her to try. (Clavimox; she previously had used Azithromycin)
It was amazing! The past 2 weeks she gained some weight and looked as healthy as when I first adopted her. The good part of hypothyroidism for Evie was that it entailed doubling her wet food; since that pill was taken with wet food, I'd feed her in the morning and at night. This was absolutely the pinnacle of her day. (After she had a full stomach I would give her her Clavimox doses, which, well, she wasn't so fond of) She hadn't vomited in a month+, she was gaining weight, and it seemed as though Clavimox had cured her of the URI.
Eva was visiting this weekend - it was Harvard v Yale. Sunday morning I was up very early in the morning to watch the On-Demand QPR vs Southampton, (I wasn't able to watch it live) and it was a very disappointing game. Right around the conclusion, when fans were booing Mark Hughes, I went to the kitchen. Evie was asleep on my white blanket on my couch, and I planned on moving her over to my bed.
As soon as I put her down, she started hyperventilating. Something was incredibly wrong; she had never done this before. She barely was able to jump off my bed, and off-balance, walked to my couch. She jumped up on the couch and barely made it; she collapsed and was drooling between her pants for air.
I looked up online if there was anything I could do THERE, but it yielded nothing. Everything pointed towards bringing her to the animal hospital. I had no idea what the cause was. She was laboring to breathe.
Eva and I rushed to the hospital. It was very early -maybe 6:30 AM - no one else was there and they rushed her for oxygen. I met with the vet and they decided to do some bloodwork, and attempt to stabilize her so that she could come home. I internally hoped this was just some sort of bad reaction, some sort of allergy, anything, and that I'd get Evie back, even if it would just be for a few days.
The vet called me that afternoon and said I better come to the hospital. She was trialed off of oxygen and it failed; she would not be able to come home, and vet wanted to know how I wanted them to proceed.
Upon arrival at the animal hospital, we were ushered into the emergency section. My little baby was laying in the tank, with an IV to her paw, looking hapless and scared. She wasn't breathing well, and that was even with the oxygen tank. The vet suggested, although her bloodwork was positive (the drugs were working for hypothyroidism/URI) that sometimes cats put up with a lot but at a certain point they just break. The suspected tumor - cancer or whatnot - had likely spread directly to her nose, impeding her breathing.
Eva and I were brought to a private room with the vet. The discussion was pretty simple and straightforward: "I think it's time". I was holding back tears at this point, but not doing a good job. Neither was Eva. The vet told me Evie would be brought to me before being euthanized so I could have some last moments.
Evie was brought to the room, and hyperventilating again. I opened the door to the vet and told her to hurry; I couldn't see Evie in pain anymore.
The actual euthanasia happened incredibly fast. I held her in my arms, crying into her side, and she "went to sleep" in a matter of 10 seconds, tops. I wasn't expecting her to go that fast. Cats also don't close their eyes when they die; they also leave their tongues out.
Eva and I walked to our cars (she was going to go home that night, because she had work on Monday, so we took 2). Instead I just walked into my car and started crying. Eva sat in my car and did the same.
Rest in peace Evie.
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Hopefully the youtube embed works; that's the only video I had of her.
Evie was a wonderful pet. I loved her very much. I got Evie (andBelle) at the Animal Rescue League in Boston roughly 3 years ago. At the time they weren't sure of her age, but guessed it to be 5. This was a great pairing with Belle, who was still a kitten, and barely eligible to be adopted. I wasn't sure if I wanted 2 cats, but I figured since I was home so much, and really enjoyed animals, that 2>1. I thought they'd be able to play with each other, in the event they found me boring or preferred a feline companion.
I knew I wanted a kitten, since aside from small fluffy furry animals being overbearingly cute, I wanted to be able to bond with them immediately. A cat, although it's sad when they are up for adoption, would be harder to forge a bond I wanted. I wasn't sure if I was ready.
Evie was different. I fell in love with her from the moment I saw her in her cage: She was tiny, looked like a kitten, but behaved very much like a cat. She jumped on me immediately, and it seemed all she wanted in the world was to sleep on my lap.
This was different for me. I was used to active cats chasing balls and with the attention span of a 2 year old. I was told Evie had been the cat of an older lady who was no longer able to take care of her.
She had no teeth; they were removed at some point, but it did not cause Evie pain, and if anything, made her more adorable. In fact, often times she would "nom nom" on my fingers, trying to eat anything off my hands, which often felt like little kisses. I also called this "gumming" me, since that basically was what it was.
Evie had an insatiable appetite. We learned, over this past summer, this was likely due to hypothyroidism, but it always astounded me how a 4 pound cat could eat and eat and eat and yet never gain weight. I always wanted to fatten her up; although she was cute-skinny, this bordered on unhealthy-tiny this summer. I just wanted her to be healthy and happy.
My first year with the cats was a little odd; I wasn't technically allowed to have cats in that apartment, (I'm not one to follow those sorts of rules...) and I didn't respond to the idea of my cats sleeping with me. I had 2 bedrooms in that apartment, with an upstairs that was carpeted; it was an ideal play-area for Belle. Evie, on the other hand, would spend hours just sitting outside my door, pawing at the knob, trying to get in. All she wanted was to come in and sleep next to me. Sometimes I let her: It was me, not Evie, who forged the bond slowly.
I always tried to engage Evie by playing with her. It wasn't that she lacked energy; she expended a fair amount warding off Belle-attacks, and was always quick to follow me around the house, whether it was because of the possibility of food or simply because she loved companionship. It was that most of the time Evie just wasn't interested in whacking a play mouse. I made it a point while playing with "teasers", (such as a stick with some rope/mouse attached to it, or a thin wire with cardboard on the end) that Evie always "won". I never wanted her to lose interest simply because she wasn't able to catch her prey. I had an idea of leaving a 12-sided dice on my hardwood floor, a few months ago, and this quickly became her favorite toy. Really, the only toy that she would play with. She would follow the "clunk clunk clunk" religiously, only stopping to look at me when she knew I was staring.
It was amazing how Evie was capable of purring immediately when you put your head next to her. I couldn't use her as a pillow - she was much too small, far too frail - (I can with Belle, which is nice, as she's a bigger and softer) but just my presence near her would do the trick. I would rub her ears or her paws, and although she was slightly bothered by this, she never complained. The only time she meowed, really, was in anticipation of being served wet food. Oftentimes it was merely a "cmon Daddy, feed me already!" My favorite moments the past year were walking to the kitchen - the daily ritual which was a clear signal it was time for wet food -and having Evie and Belle RACE to me, as though the amount of food received was directly tied to who finished first. Evie normally won.
When I got home this summer from Vegas, after leaving them with my family friend Dick Wynn, (who had looked after them 2 summers ago) Evie was much skinnier. She wasn't well, and was having difficulty breathing. I had a vet appointment coming up, but changed it to an emergency appointment so she could be seen earlier. When I arrived, the vet fairly quickly told me she needed to go to the hospital. I had no idea her condition was as serious as it was.
At the animal hospital I feared the worst. Vets, like most professions, don't like assigning probabilities or making clear certainties. I asked what was wrong, and it was a wide ranging answer, which pretty much was hidden by "we wont know until we run some tests". She had a lot of nasal discharge which got to such a point that her constant sneezing was giving her bloody noses.
She was at the animal hospital for 3 days, where she was stabilized, and diagnosed with hypothyroidism (explained the weight) as well as URI. (Upper respiratory infection, explained the difficulty breathing) It wasn't clear what the root cause of the URIs were, although they suspected, although didn't come out and say it, cancer. The MRIs were exorbitantly expensive, so instead I chose the rational route: We'd treat her URIs with antibiotics and put her on drugs for hypothyroidism, which would in turn make her stronger, which again would help fend off any other infection. If it was cancer, it would become clear, and treatment at that point is too expensive, so we'd do this without all the expensive diagnostics.
At this point they told me it was more likely Evie was 13-15; that is the normal age range for hypothyroidism, and they suspected she had been dealing with it from the onset of when I adopted her. (Which explained the small stature)
The antibiotics sorta worked, then the nasal discharge would come back. There were good days - when she had full energy and no sneezes - accompanied by some bad days - which involved 20 second long sneeze attacks, resulting in a bloody nose. If you had never heard her sneeze before, it would be thought of as comical. I suspected the worst.
I put her on another trial of antibiotics 2 months ago, and again, it worked for a short time, but it was a short term gain followed by short term loss. She did gain some weight during this time, which made me hopeful for her recovery.
Evie had a checkup 2 weeks ago, exactly, with the vet. It was to monitor her blood levels. Apparently, although she was gaining weight, she wasn't taking enough drugs. We ~doubled her dose in the morning, and got a different antibiotic for her to try. (Clavimox; she previously had used Azithromycin)
It was amazing! The past 2 weeks she gained some weight and looked as healthy as when I first adopted her. The good part of hypothyroidism for Evie was that it entailed doubling her wet food; since that pill was taken with wet food, I'd feed her in the morning and at night. This was absolutely the pinnacle of her day. (After she had a full stomach I would give her her Clavimox doses, which, well, she wasn't so fond of) She hadn't vomited in a month+, she was gaining weight, and it seemed as though Clavimox had cured her of the URI.
Eva was visiting this weekend - it was Harvard v Yale. Sunday morning I was up very early in the morning to watch the On-Demand QPR vs Southampton, (I wasn't able to watch it live) and it was a very disappointing game. Right around the conclusion, when fans were booing Mark Hughes, I went to the kitchen. Evie was asleep on my white blanket on my couch, and I planned on moving her over to my bed.
As soon as I put her down, she started hyperventilating. Something was incredibly wrong; she had never done this before. She barely was able to jump off my bed, and off-balance, walked to my couch. She jumped up on the couch and barely made it; she collapsed and was drooling between her pants for air.
I looked up online if there was anything I could do THERE, but it yielded nothing. Everything pointed towards bringing her to the animal hospital. I had no idea what the cause was. She was laboring to breathe.
Eva and I rushed to the hospital. It was very early -maybe 6:30 AM - no one else was there and they rushed her for oxygen. I met with the vet and they decided to do some bloodwork, and attempt to stabilize her so that she could come home. I internally hoped this was just some sort of bad reaction, some sort of allergy, anything, and that I'd get Evie back, even if it would just be for a few days.
The vet called me that afternoon and said I better come to the hospital. She was trialed off of oxygen and it failed; she would not be able to come home, and vet wanted to know how I wanted them to proceed.
Upon arrival at the animal hospital, we were ushered into the emergency section. My little baby was laying in the tank, with an IV to her paw, looking hapless and scared. She wasn't breathing well, and that was even with the oxygen tank. The vet suggested, although her bloodwork was positive (the drugs were working for hypothyroidism/URI) that sometimes cats put up with a lot but at a certain point they just break. The suspected tumor - cancer or whatnot - had likely spread directly to her nose, impeding her breathing.
Eva and I were brought to a private room with the vet. The discussion was pretty simple and straightforward: "I think it's time". I was holding back tears at this point, but not doing a good job. Neither was Eva. The vet told me Evie would be brought to me before being euthanized so I could have some last moments.
Evie was brought to the room, and hyperventilating again. I opened the door to the vet and told her to hurry; I couldn't see Evie in pain anymore.
The actual euthanasia happened incredibly fast. I held her in my arms, crying into her side, and she "went to sleep" in a matter of 10 seconds, tops. I wasn't expecting her to go that fast. Cats also don't close their eyes when they die; they also leave their tongues out.
Eva and I walked to our cars (she was going to go home that night, because she had work on Monday, so we took 2). Instead I just walked into my car and started crying. Eva sat in my car and did the same.
Rest in peace Evie.
