Holly Cat

Last Thursday night, my cat was acting like a maniac. Friday morning, I was talking to my roommate about how bizarre she had been acting. A few minutes later she noticed my cat walking in small circles.

Something was wrong. I left for work and I was sick to my stomach. I e-mailed my boss and left at noon. I came home to be with her, and she was walking without much use of her back legs. She was wobbly and falling down. She kept falling between my mattress and wall.

I googled the signs of cat dementia and was heartbroken. At this time she was pacing. She walked around the basement, leaning against the walls, tracing the perimeter for hours. I was certain she was blind and retraining herself. She walked through her litter box several times, and knocked over her water glass. I was absolutely sick.

It continued to get worse that evening. I laid in bed with her all night, talking to her, trying to comfort her. I sobbed for hours. I told her I loved her, and that I had a feeling that was going to be the last night I had with her.

By Saturday morning I was certain I would have to put her down. She was getting stuck in corners, and walking into walls. She got stuck behind the dryer and never made a peep. She tried crawling into my wastebasket. I was sick to my stomach, and had to take an insulin injection, because my insulin pump couldn't keep up with the stress I was dealing with.

By noon, I was having difficulty breathing. I couldn't decide if I should take her to the vet, or get myself to the hospital. The emergency room won out. I could barely walk and my kidneys were killing me. By the time we left for the hospital, I had thrown up 4 times and was in a wheelchair. Three days later I was released. I was given fluids, on an insulin and glucose drip and on a strict blood testing, and eating schedule. My blood sugars were perfect in the night, but when I woke up and thought about my dear sweet Holly cat, I would cry and my blood sugar would spike.

I came home to my cat in worse condition than I had left her. She had not eaten, and was still pacing for hours at a time. I told myself that Wednesday would be my last day with her, that I would spare her the misery of dementia and pain. My eyes were literally seeping tears. I was choking on my own breath. I looked into at home euthanasia, but was unable to actually call and get a quote or schedule a time. Most of Wednesday she slept on my chest, we laid nose to nose; I think she wanted to be close, and my breath must have been comforting.

I heard her use the litter box and eat some. I listened as she drank her water, and she got back up on the bed with me. I noticed that her back legs were supporting her, and she was walking straight. I noticed that the pacing had stopped.

By Thursday I gave her some icing and milk. She's like her Mom and loves both!

I've grieved for days, and I haven't lost her. She seems normal now. I think she may have had a seizure. I'm not sure, but I haven't cried in two days.

I know that I could say goodbye and be with her when it's time. It's the "after" that I'm afraid of. She has been the love of my life for over 20 years. It will be difficult to learn to live without her. I know I will be lonely, and I know I will get through it, but what had me choking on my own tears was the thought of putting her into the cold ground. She loves her space heater and comforts of my soft bedding. The thought of her in a box in the ground chills me to the bone. But, I'm grateful for every day that I've had with her, and thankfully it looks like I will have a few more.