The Momcat Chronicles: Birth and Death

I've been writing about the addition of a new kitty to the family, Little Dude from up on the Mesa, who is about 3 months old now, full of life and energy.

Sadly, at the same time that a new little one has come into my household, another life--that of my beloved cat Twinky--is fading out. Twinky is about 15 years old now, which the vet said is about the average life expectancy for a cat. She has been through a lot of adventures in her life, and I'll write about that later. But right now, Twinky is dying and it's my job to find the right moment--not too soon, not too late--to help her make her exit from this world.

Back in August, when she went in for a check-up, the vet noticed she'd lost a couple of pounds. Since Twinky loves to eat and has been on the chunky side for years, this did not seem altogether bad. Except there was no explanation for the weight loss. The vet did an ultra-sound and determined that her spleen looked abnormal, so another test was done, something called a fine needle aspiration, where a few cells are removed from the spleen via an ultra-thin needle. This last test showed cancer. At the same time, other things were looking bad--like many elder cats, Twinky has kidney and digestive tract issues.

Twinky is also blind. She lost one eye to infection as a young kitten--that's how I came to be fostering her for the Boulder Valley Humane Society in Boulder, CO--and lost the second eye to glaucoma, caused by undiagnosed high blood pressure about 5 years ago. She's adapted wonderfully to her blindness, gets around the house and the fence-in backyard just fine. But because of her blindness, a trip to the vet is even more stressful and frightening for Twinky than most cats. I did not want to continue with invasive procedures, such as having her spleen removed. Also, I have gone down this road with several cats and two dogs, and I truly did not think removal of the spleen would save Twink's life or prolong it.

All this was maybe a month ago. Since then, I've been giving Twink whatever she wants in the way of treats and canned food and she has seemed fairly normal, although clearly losing more weight. Then a few days ago, things changed. I noticed her sides seemed to be swelling out and knew, from past experience, that this might mean fluid retention.

I had a hard decision to make. This morning, early, I'm going to do my best to get Twinky to take a small dose of kitty valium hidden in wet food. I don't know if she'll take it--cats are very sensitive to something in their food--but I will do my best. Then an hour later, I'm doing what I'd hoped I wouldn't have to do--taking her back to the vet to see if they can drain off this extra fluid and make her more comfortable. Due to her blindness, Twink hates and fears trips to the vet more than most cats. I have to weigh the benefits of her seeing the vet versus the stress of making the trip.

I've been with many animals during their dying process and I will be with Twink up to the end of hers. I've already arranged with the vet to come to the house when the time comes. At least that way Twinky can be in her familiar, comfortable surroundings.

Watching an animal die, especially one who is so loved, is excruciating. Knowing when the time has come is a heart-wrenching decision.

I have a friend who once told me she felt she waited too long to let go of one of her animals. Now she says, like a mantra, "Better to be an hour too early than a minute too late." I agree. I don't know if today will be the day--I hope not and I don't think it will, I think Twink will come home. But I really don't know what the vet will say about her condition. If the fluid retention turns out to be blood instead of water, then that would mean something else.

In the meantime, I can only do my best to make the right decisions on behalf of this wonderful, loving soul.