Recently my 21+ year old cat friend Kiwi died, and while its hard for me to write, I want to share some of the lessons that came from the experiences at the end of her long life.
Kiwi had a change in her condition a few days before she passed, her circulatory system was failing, and even though her kidneys were ok, I noticed that she wasn't processing fluids properly. When I'd give her Ringers Lactate under the skin for hydration, it would pool in her legs instead of being absorbed in a few minutes. The vet said that her peripheral circulation was failing and he could hardly feel a pulse in her legs.
Sharon urged me to keep her at home unless she was really suffering. We considered "putting her down", and discussed it with the Vet, but she wasn't in pain and seemed to want to be with me. Even though it was hard for me, I took her home and decided to keep her comfortable.
Once she was home, she was wanting to be close to me, and I held her head in the palm of my hand, stroked her emaciated body, and comforted her. I took her outside and and put her on a bed that I'd brought on the table in the garden courtyard. She seemed to enjoy being in the sun, but after a while, it was too warm for her. I moved the table under the shade of the plum tree, and she was more comfortable.
It was time for her to get more fluids, so I hung the bag from a tree branch and inserted the needle under her skin of her back around the shoulders. I again held her head in the palm of my hand and stroked her flank as the life giving fluids flowed through the tubing into her body. She seemed weaker, but also enjoying this time in nature outside. After a while, it seemed as if she had enough, so I unplugged her and took her back inside.
She refused to eat, a change that signaled the beginning of her passing. She and I spent a lot of time together that Saturday, and I cried knowing that she wouldn't be with me for long. She was so weak, yet she responded to my touch. I was very glad that I brought her home, even though it was very difficult for me, it was also important to support this Kitty friend in her time of need.
The next morning, her breathing was labored, more or less like chen-stokes syndrome. I spent time with her, but had to go to the Community Media Center on my bike. Before I left I said good-by and told her that she could leave while I was on my errand. She wasn't responding to me, and her eyes seemed far away.
When I returned a couple hours later, she was gone.
Kiwi was such a loyal friend, and we had a great last few months together. Early this year she rallied, started getting up before me, going down the hall on her own to the kitchen to wait for me to get up and make coffee. She would hang out with our other two cats, Snowy and Carol. She'd bray for me when she wanted me to do something for her, like carry her back to her warm cat bed with the warm pad. She'd eat crunchies from Snowy's bowl even though she only had about three teeth left, pushing him aside to get a few bites. Carol snuggled with her most mornings, cleaning her head and sleeping with Kiwi on the warm pad.
I spent more time with her, took her outside more, and had her stay with me on the couch in the living room when Sharon and I settled in after dinner. Kiwi took quite a bit of maintenance, as I had to provide fresh towels ( she had some incontenance), give her fluids twice a day, and Lactulose stool softener. I gave her this care for over three years, every day. The cost wasn't insignificant, and she had to visit the vet a few times each year.
In some way, I felt joy at being able to provide the support that kept her going while she had the spirit and the will to be with me. She had been there as my cat friend through many difficult times, through the good times as well. All her life she was really good about comming when I called, and even though Alex and Alicia Star were my favorites, she would waddle along like the nerd kitty when we went walking along the railroad track.
Kiwi was there when my partner left way back in 1989, she was there during my difficult times in the early 1990's, and again when I lost my job in 1995, when my dear love Peggy died in 2001, and Kiwi stayed as my lap cat until her kidneys started failing in 2006. I thought it unlikely that giving her fluids would do more than make her passing easier, but she responded strongly to that early supportive therapy and made it though her crisis. Her willingness to endure the twice daily fluids under the skin with a needle made it possible to give her fluids without a struggle, and contributed to our success at supporting her health.
We had outstanding vet care, mostly from Dr. Bill Estheimer at East San Rafael Animal Hospital. Bill was willing to work with me with this old cat, and patiently taught me how to improve my techniques in giving fluids, injectons, etc. Dr. Estheimer and Dr. Michelle Rose helped Kiwi when she became blocked, and helped me to find a special diet that worked for a cat with megacolon disease.
Since I know that I did everything that I could for her, and that she appreciated her life and being part of the Skolnick-Bagnoli family, when she passed it was easier for me than when I've lost other cats. I had accepted that she would pass when she was ready for months, maybe even years. I was grateful for the time with her, but recognized that her time was at hand when she stopped eating and her circulatory system began to collapse.
Thanks Kiwi, you were a great friend and teacher!