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Pumpkin has gone to the Rainbow Bridge. :-( :-(
Saturday and Sunday were OK for him, no big change from Friday. I went to an SCA event on Saturday, and Pumpkin apparently peed on the sofa sometime during the afternoon while the boy toy was playing with Julia (the other cat) in the bedroom. Last night, when he and I were excitedly watching "The Walking Dead" and "Talking Dead," I kept giving the Pumpykins skritches on his neck.
This morning, when I got up, I saw Pumpkin sitting at the other end of the hallway, looking at me as if to say, "Please feed me! Now!!!" I fed the cats as usual, and I took a short video of Pumpkin noshing on his kibble (the cats get dry food in the morning, wet food at night -- they would prefer crunchies all the time, but I started insisting on the wet food once Pumpkin got his diagnosis of diabetes). The video is still in my camera.
Unfortunately, after he ate, Pumpie started throwing up this brown stuff that looked like partially digested cat food. He threw up at least seven times during the afternoon. He also looked as if he wanted to poop but couldn't. He kept staggering between the dining room litter box and the bathroom litter box. He definitely looked uncomfortable. He didn't know where to put himself. Julia and Pumpkin aren't all that friendly with each other, but Julia kept stalking him, keeping an eye on him, as if to say, "Gee, that other cat is not quite right, but I'm not sure what's going on."
When running our afternoon errands, the boy toy and I picked up a little pot of organic "kitty grass" -- a special treat indeed. When he was healthy, Pumpkin would attack the sprouts with the ferocity of a weed-whacker. This afternoon, he took a nibble but wasn't that interested.
The vet we saw on Friday had told us to call on Monday if we had any questions or if we didn't think Pumpkin could make it until his Tuesday appointment. So we called the animal hospital and said that we could bring our poor kitty in for an anti-emetic shot and a check of his butt.
We brought him into the exam room. We could tell that he couldn't get in a comfortable position in the carrier, and he squirted pee out the carrier side and onto the exam table. Dr. S. (not the vet we saw Friday, but the vet who gave us the initial diagnosis in December 2011) came in and talked to us about quality of life, etc. Then he left us in the room to talk for a few minutes. We let Pumpkin wobble around and he peed on the floor before flopping down with his eyes moving back and forth quickly, almost like REM sleep, but his lids still open. Poor little guy was so tired.
Yep, there was really no point to keeping Pumpkin here for another day. He just had too many problems with too many major organs.
After I signed the paperwork, we let him walk around the exam room one more time. He rubbed his face on things, as best he could, and just before the vet came back into the room, he jumped back into his carrier as if to say, "It's time to go home!" Not that kind of home, little Pumpkin. Not that kind.
I started to cry.
The vet tech put Pumpkin on a clean towel on the exam table. Pumpkin growled and hissed at the sedative injection. Then the vet and his assistant left to give me and the boy toy a few last moments with our Pumpie. I picked him up with the towel wrapped around him (because he was kind of wet from the pee) and I held him in my arms one more time. He let out a couple of yowls of protest one more time, because he really, really didn't like being held like that. But I wanted to cuddle him and feel his little body. We put him back on the table and noticed that he was nice and relaxed and "out of it," so we rubbed his white tummy without being afraid that he was going to bite us out of overstimulation.
I didn't want to stay for the lethal injection. I'm sure that the last thing Pumpkin heard was our voices. The vet let us leave by the side door so we didn't have to see other people's happy, healthy pets (and the other people didn't have to see me as a big, sobbing mess).
I'm not sure if Julia realizes yet what happened to Pumpkin. She seems to be enjoying the sprouty sprouts, though.
Poor Pumpkin. He had a hard life before he became an indoor kitty and never really learned how to show cat-type affection. He drew the short stick when it came to bodies. May his spirit now bask in the sun forever.
Saturday and Sunday were OK for him, no big change from Friday. I went to an SCA event on Saturday, and Pumpkin apparently peed on the sofa sometime during the afternoon while the boy toy was playing with Julia (the other cat) in the bedroom. Last night, when he and I were excitedly watching "The Walking Dead" and "Talking Dead," I kept giving the Pumpykins skritches on his neck.
This morning, when I got up, I saw Pumpkin sitting at the other end of the hallway, looking at me as if to say, "Please feed me! Now!!!" I fed the cats as usual, and I took a short video of Pumpkin noshing on his kibble (the cats get dry food in the morning, wet food at night -- they would prefer crunchies all the time, but I started insisting on the wet food once Pumpkin got his diagnosis of diabetes). The video is still in my camera.
Unfortunately, after he ate, Pumpie started throwing up this brown stuff that looked like partially digested cat food. He threw up at least seven times during the afternoon. He also looked as if he wanted to poop but couldn't. He kept staggering between the dining room litter box and the bathroom litter box. He definitely looked uncomfortable. He didn't know where to put himself. Julia and Pumpkin aren't all that friendly with each other, but Julia kept stalking him, keeping an eye on him, as if to say, "Gee, that other cat is not quite right, but I'm not sure what's going on."
When running our afternoon errands, the boy toy and I picked up a little pot of organic "kitty grass" -- a special treat indeed. When he was healthy, Pumpkin would attack the sprouts with the ferocity of a weed-whacker. This afternoon, he took a nibble but wasn't that interested.
The vet we saw on Friday had told us to call on Monday if we had any questions or if we didn't think Pumpkin could make it until his Tuesday appointment. So we called the animal hospital and said that we could bring our poor kitty in for an anti-emetic shot and a check of his butt.
We brought him into the exam room. We could tell that he couldn't get in a comfortable position in the carrier, and he squirted pee out the carrier side and onto the exam table. Dr. S. (not the vet we saw Friday, but the vet who gave us the initial diagnosis in December 2011) came in and talked to us about quality of life, etc. Then he left us in the room to talk for a few minutes. We let Pumpkin wobble around and he peed on the floor before flopping down with his eyes moving back and forth quickly, almost like REM sleep, but his lids still open. Poor little guy was so tired.
Yep, there was really no point to keeping Pumpkin here for another day. He just had too many problems with too many major organs.
After I signed the paperwork, we let him walk around the exam room one more time. He rubbed his face on things, as best he could, and just before the vet came back into the room, he jumped back into his carrier as if to say, "It's time to go home!" Not that kind of home, little Pumpkin. Not that kind.
I started to cry.
The vet tech put Pumpkin on a clean towel on the exam table. Pumpkin growled and hissed at the sedative injection. Then the vet and his assistant left to give me and the boy toy a few last moments with our Pumpie. I picked him up with the towel wrapped around him (because he was kind of wet from the pee) and I held him in my arms one more time. He let out a couple of yowls of protest one more time, because he really, really didn't like being held like that. But I wanted to cuddle him and feel his little body. We put him back on the table and noticed that he was nice and relaxed and "out of it," so we rubbed his white tummy without being afraid that he was going to bite us out of overstimulation.
I didn't want to stay for the lethal injection. I'm sure that the last thing Pumpkin heard was our voices. The vet let us leave by the side door so we didn't have to see other people's happy, healthy pets (and the other people didn't have to see me as a big, sobbing mess).
I'm not sure if Julia realizes yet what happened to Pumpkin. She seems to be enjoying the sprouty sprouts, though.
Poor Pumpkin. He had a hard life before he became an indoor kitty and never really learned how to show cat-type affection. He drew the short stick when it came to bodies. May his spirit now bask in the sun forever.
