As many times as it takes

Took my girl to the vet on TBP Day(6/15) of all days after a bout of diarrhea over the weekend had her feeling a little lethargic and got hit with the news that 1. Heart Failure, 2. Chest filling with fluid, 3. Operation needed, but she probably won't survive it, 4. Your cat has at most two days left, 5. We recommend putting her down

And...did not take it well🤷🏻‍♀️

Spent those two days by her side snot running and tears in my eyes and she...started eating again like nothing was wrong, got her energy back...but I did notice her breathing was starting to take a little more effort.

And then she got restless that Saturday night, couldn't find a comfortable position. And so I rushed her to the ER, and this time it really was do or die. She wasn't as weak as she was at that last vet visit, but still high risk for not...waking up.

They put her in an oxygen chamber and gave me time to make a decision. Do or die, do or die, die suffocating, die on an operating table with a glimmer of hope, or end her suffering then and there.

And...fuck, man. How do you make a decision like that.

But...she was stable, so they didn't rush me. Just, gave me space with her, came by to check on us, answered all my questions......

She kept bumping her head into my hand...slow blinked at me through the glass...

And so...do or die, one final go.

It was an open concept ER so they let me watch, with my heart in my throat, let me view the ultrasound with every drainage...

And she pulled through, wobbly as anything, back in her oxygen chamber.

Stayed overnight with her in the hospital, got some new meds and...bought a little more time.

But there was still that dread hanging overhead that the fluid would come back...just a manner of when.

How many taps could she tolerate. How long would the medicine work for. At what point do I make the call that enough is enough, this isn't fair to her, and I need to let her go.

Couldn't keep calling off work, so I'd rush home afterwards just to check if she was still...okay. And she'd be there trilling hello, tail up in the air, demanding food and chin scritches. Just me and her living our lives, with the addition of pill showdowns and counting her breaths as she slept.

And...8 days later, started noticing that same effort with breathing. Not as scary as the first time, but enough for me to start...slowly preparing myself.

What would be...a good death. At home, in her favorite place...

By then I had a cardiology consult, and they gave me the news that the fluid had indeed come back. Medicine wasn't working, she needed another tap. Just...one week later.

One week.

Another decision to make.

Putting her through that every week?

That wasn't fair to her.

And my savings weren't exactly bottomless.

But...if she breathed easier, I could breathe easier too.

So, I gave her another good luck hug and kiss and prayed it wasn't the last...and watched them take her to the OR.

Two...pensive hours later they brought her back to me, fussing and scattering litter onto the walls.

I guess unlike my suburban ass she was raised on the streets and got that fight in her.

Cardiologist came by to update me and put her on stronger meds. Not promising anything, but not...looking grim either.

If it comes back in a week, we'll know it's time.

If it doesn't...then maybe, this will work for however long she'll give me.

Once again, one more week with my girl.

And at that next visit, good news, no fluid, her heart had shrunk to a more normal size. Meds were working. They took her renal panel and said they'd call me back with results the next day.

Got my hopes up just a bit, but did find it concerning that she was starting to hide.

And then I got the call and...her kidneys were Not Good. Cut the torsemide dose to once a day, keep the vetmedin the same.

There was still a chance we could turn things around.

One more week.

But she continued hiding from mid-morning to late afternoon.

She'd come out for all the cat things, food, water, chin scritches, cuddling in bed, using the litter box... And at night we'd sleep together like always.

And then...she slowly ate less and less.

And by that Saturday she took nothing but a bite here and there, and just kept drinking and drinking to no avail. Headed to one water bowl after the next, staring at the water, wanting to drink but not feeling up for it.

It was horrible to watch. Suffocate in your fluids (heart failure) or constantly feel thirsty but nothing you drank was enough (kidney failure). And she had both. And treating one would make the other worse.

And so I rushed her to urgent care, knowing what they'd tell me, but I just...wanted to be sure.

Heart failure was controlled but, sure enough, even with halving the dose, her kidneys were...completely failing her.

It was time.

It had...been time, but I couldn't let go.

But I couldn't let her suffer anymore. Her pain outweighed mine.

She fought so hard for so long.

I had to make the call.

And so...I got the appointment in, a home euthanasia. I spent the next few days giving her comfort care, cirenia for nausea, subq fluids for dehydration, mirtazapine as an appetite stimulant. Bought a whole feast of wet cat food just to find something, anything, she'd be willing to eat. Got her her favorite contraband chicken strips. Some rough moments here and there, but she managed to eat pretty well even until her final moments.

In the half hour before the vet came, I fed her all the deli ham she wanted. She perked up immediately, put her little paws on my lap, her one eye big and round, and happily lapped up every chunk.

And then she went back to her bed content.

And so I went downstairs to let the vet in and we just watched her clean herself, talked about how her and I first met, yes she's so little, yeah she's a pirate kitty, my little stirfry.

I fed her one last piece of ham as the vet sedated her and she just took it like a champ.

After a few seconds or so, she got up and walked past us...

Where you goin'? Where you off to?

Walked along after her and...she started, going to sleep, in the litter box🥲

Nah, girl, let's move you somewhere comfier.

So I carried her back in my arms, snoring away like a baby, all 4.5 lbs of her.

Never carried her like that before. She never liked being held. But she liked tail hugs. She liked draping her tail across my neck in bed. Smacked my face with it if I was using the phone too late at night. Didn't mind me holding her tail as a greeting. Always made sure her tail was touching me whenever we were just hanging out.

Held her like a baby for the first and last time.

Told her how much I loved her. Hoped she could hear me. Hoped she knew. Gave her all the kisses, all the hugs, squished her little beans...and then...held her until her last breaths.

Kept holding her for a long, long time.

Peaceful as can be.

Sent her off with my blessings, shut the front door and...slowly, made my way back up to clean.

All the water bowls, every shape and size. The flat pie bowl she kept digging water out of before drinking. The fountain she sniffed at and never used. One of my cups she saw me drinking from and decided, yes this is good water. Her actual water bowl, elevated with tupperware so she didn't have to bend down as much. Her remaining opened food. All her pill bottles, the syringes...put away. We fought with the medicine for a bit. Hiding it in her food worked for a bit until it didn't, walter white-ing it into a gel capsule didn't work because she would defiantly spit it out, and then I just crushed the pills with water into a syringe and she just crossed her figurative arms and said fine.

Folded her blankets. Left her bed where it was. Kept her original food and water bowl out nearby.

There was no sense in keeping litter in a box that won't be used but...that's where she stumbled over to sleep, so I won't touch it for now.

Not vacuuming just yet either.

And my car is probably going to look like a pet transport vehicle for a little longer.

I was holding it together pretty well surprisingly. Knew that I was just numbing myself and going through the motions, but...got through it all pretty methodically.

And then I was done cleaning.

And I looked at her bed.

And I fucking wailed.

And now, hours later, here I am writing this.

Sitting in another room.

We took so many naps together on that bed of hers. My head snuggled next to hers, or her tail resting against my ear.

She hated that thing for so long but eventually it became her favorite spot in this past month.

I dont know when but I'll try taking a nap there later.

Maybe I'll sleep in this room tonight.