my heart is breaking.... [View all]

[mike_c]

I've been struggling with whether to post this for hours. I'm usually rather private about personal events, and it's hard to understand why we sometimes feel compelled to share painful things anonymously, with strangers. Maybe it's just because sometimes it's too much to hold them by ourselves.

Tomorrow I'll be burying an old friend. My friend Mango is an 11 year old male Balinese cat, one of two brothers that I rescued at 10 weeks from what might best be described as a small scale kitten mill. They have been wonderful companions and great friends. The other brother, Murphy, still lives with me but Mango moved in with a neighbor a few years ago, some time after my partner and I merged households and combined too many pets under one roof for his tastes. That's another story all by itself, but both the neighbors and I ended perfectly happy with the outcome, as I get to see Mango nearly every day anyway, and the neighbors don't mind me hanging out with him in their yard whenever I see him. In fact, two of my other cats joined him, so we have had something of a dual household extended pet family ever since. Mango is one of the sweetest, most gentle cats I've ever known-- not to mention drop dead handsome-- and everyone who gets to know him falls in love with him.

Several weeks ago I stopped by to pet him and say hello, but noticed that he seemed exceptionally skinny. He looked OK otherwise so I made a mental note to check with the neighbors to see whether there was anything I could do. However, with one thing and another I didn't see him again until last week and his condition was alarming-- he is skeletal, with a distended abdomen, lethargic and so weak he can hardly walk. I spoke with the neighbors, and they were absolutely beside themselves. They'd already spent a thousand dollars at the vet and gotten only vague suggestions of possible diagnoses, and no treatment options other than a single course of antibiotics, which did not help.

I took him to my vet yesterday. She gave him some fluids for dehydration and worked up an extensive blood panel, but there wasn't any clear diagnosis other than a very high white blood cell count. X-rays confirmed the fluid buildup in his abdomen but didn't reveal any masses or other abnormalities. Samples of the abdominal fluid were full of white blood cells. She suggested either "cancer, a massive infection, or infectious peritonitis" and sent us off with another course of broad spectrum antibiotics. I'm taking him back tomorrow for more fluids and to evaluate whether he has made any progress. He hasn't. It's awful to see him so weak, sick, and debilitated.

In the interim, I researched feline infectious peritonitis. When the vet mentioned it, I was actually hoping that would be the diagnosis, as peritonitis generally responds to antibiotics. Human peritonitis, that is. I've learned that FIP is something altogether different, a coronavirus infection of the peritoneum and immune system. It is 100 percent fatal, there is no definitive test for it, and there is no cure. The "wet" form that produces the distention caused by abdominal edema progresses fast. Mango is in the end stage.

If you've read this far, thank you. Maybe it helps a little to write about it. Tomorrow the vet and I will "talk about options" but there aren't any, really. It's just a question of how long before he dies-- days, at most in his current condition-- and how best to help him go. I had an emotional and difficult talk with the neighbors this morning-- he is really their cat now and I don't want to do anything without their blessing-- but they're a retired couple with limited means and are grateful for the help. We left with the understanding that tomorrow I'd likely dig his grave in their back yard. I will insist on doing the digging-- I wish I could do so much more than simply prepare a place for him-- but then I'll say my goodbyes and leave them alone with him, their grief, and the shovel to finish their own last words.

My heart is breaking. I know it seems futile to broadcast my grief to strangers, and I'm certainly not trying to start a conversation about it. I think I know now why people "rend their clothes" and wail in public-- it doesn't seem possible to contain such sadness. Please forgive me if I've darkened your day with mine. I suppose there is a PSA part to this: if you obtain kittens from breeders, insist on a coronavirus test as part of their early veterinary care. Watching FIP take a cat's life is one of the worst things ever.