This has been a tough, crazy month with my twelve-year-old cat, Rosie. She suffers from dislocated knees and arthritis, and this past week she didn’t seem to want to move any more. We asked for pain medication for her, thinking that she just couldn’t get up to eat, drink or move and when the pain meds didn’t seem to change anything, we brought her to the vet on Friday. We were shocked to learn that the veterinarian thought something else was going on with her and was leaning towards kidney disease!
We left her there and in the afternoon the vet called and told me that Rosie had lost 80% kidney function! Amazingly, cats, while not able to regain kidney function, can survive with home care, but they must be able to eat on their own and respond to the treatment at the vet’s. The plan was to give her the weekend and see if she was improving.
It has been very difficult trying to take care of the needs of my child and trying not to be too sad around him. Thus, I have not cried at all about this. I think one of the hardest parts of having a child is putting them first no matter what is going on in your life; that they are depending on you.
We all visited Rosie at the vet’s yesterday. Tyler petted Rosie and told her he loved her. He says he is sad but obviously he can’t grasp too much. Meanwhile I’ve known Rosie way longer than him or even my husband! I had some time alone with Rosie who was looking better than when we had brought her in. I told her that I wanted what was best for her but if she really wanted to come home she needed to start eating on her own. Grant told me he was more like, “Don’t you dare die on me, goddammit”!
This morning the vet called and told me that Rosie’s levels were about 50% improved, although she still was not eating. She recommended one more overnight and then evaluating. She said that Rosie’s response was really good and that sometimes she will have people bring their pets home to see if them being home will get them interested in eating.
I don’t mind the fight, but, God, if this is all going to end badly…it’s hard to go on like this, you know? I’ve never had to put an animal to sleep; Rosie and her sister are my first “grown-up” pets.
It’s been really hard to get myself to write this. Life has been tough enough without this happening. We can’t afford this, but what do you do when a pet has been good to you for so long, what other choice do you have? My feeling about life and death situations, be it pets or people is that I want whatever is best for them. Of course, it’s not always what is best for me. I do believe Rosie’s outcome is in God’s hands.
