Sunday, August 13, 2006
It has been a fraught weekend. Moon The Cat is dying. I am sure of it.
Yesterday, after I had got back from the cinema, I found Moon The Cat holed up in a part of the house that he never ventures to. Not right. I tried to entice him out with some tuna, but he wasn't having it. He was breathing, but he seemed catatonic. I lifted him out, took him into the kitchen and stuck his face into his water bowl and then his food bowl. He took a little bit of both.
Then he had a fit. For a good five minutes his eyes were wide open and he was shaking. Then he stopped. He tried to get up, but was wobbly and kept falling over. I lifted him back to his water and his food bowl. Again he ate something. I wrapped him in his blanket and took him into the living room and sat with him. Moon The Cat was very vocal. He talked to me.
Lorraine arrived home. I told her what happened. We had the standard
Pynchon: "We can't go on like this. He's suffering!"
Lorraine: "The vet said to expect episodes. He's OK. You are just a selfish bastard. You want him dead."
argument and then she took him off me and cuddled him like a baby.
A hour later he had another fit. It lasted about a minute. I had to bite my hand to prevent myself from saying, "I told you so. Now, do you believe me?"
Lorraine, obviously, was freaked out. For all the talk of "episodes" we had never actually seen Moon The Cat have a fit before. We have seen the drunken movement and the difficulty in walking and the fact that one out of three times he misses his litter tray, but he has never had a fit in front of us before.
We took a taxi to an emergency vet. Moon The Cat was examined. Blood was taken. The emergency vet said that Moon The Cat has severely low blood sugar and wanted to know if we were giving him the right food and the right dosage of insulin when we inject him. Of course we fucking are!
Moon The Cat was kept in overnight on a glucose drip. We picked him up this morning. Moon The Cat had another fit during the night, but this morning seemed more together. We took him home. The vet said to take Moon The Cat to his normal vet on Monday as, although he had ascertained that the problem was low blood sugar, he didn't know why it was happening. He also didn't know why the fits were happening.
Moon The Cat has been having fits on and off all day for very short periods of time. He is not moving very well. Lorraine is taking food to him. She will not leave him alone. She told me to go out as she did not need me under her feet. I declined.
Now, I am prepared to be the bad guy here. I love that cat, but it is time to end this nonsense. Moon The Cat is not going to get any better. He is 16 years old. He has no quality of life. He is suffering. We are suffering (or is it just me, the selfish bastard?) It has seemed to me that recently that everything that goes on in the house is being dictated by Moon The Cat's health, and let's ignore for the moment the distasteful question of how much money it is costing us (although you might like to know that the bill for Saturday night's jaunt to the emergency vet cost near on three hundred quid, and I fully expect at least another hundred quid to be spent tomorrow when Lorraine goes to our normal vet.)
Can't Lorraine see that this is now pointless and that we need to stop this? Am I really such a shit? Am I really being so insensitive? I have not come out and said bluntly, "Moon has got to go", but Lorraine knows that I think. I would like honest opinions if anybody wants to give them, because I don't know how to tackle this. I don't want it to go on for the next couple of months, or god forbid, into next year. We are damaged already and are getting more damaged.
I swear to whatever God you believe in that I just want things to be right. I love Lorraine.
Yesterday, after I had got back from the cinema, I found Moon The Cat holed up in a part of the house that he never ventures to. Not right. I tried to entice him out with some tuna, but he wasn't having it. He was breathing, but he seemed catatonic. I lifted him out, took him into the kitchen and stuck his face into his water bowl and then his food bowl. He took a little bit of both.
Then he had a fit. For a good five minutes his eyes were wide open and he was shaking. Then he stopped. He tried to get up, but was wobbly and kept falling over. I lifted him back to his water and his food bowl. Again he ate something. I wrapped him in his blanket and took him into the living room and sat with him. Moon The Cat was very vocal. He talked to me.
Lorraine arrived home. I told her what happened. We had the standard
Pynchon: "We can't go on like this. He's suffering!"
Lorraine: "The vet said to expect episodes. He's OK. You are just a selfish bastard. You want him dead."
argument and then she took him off me and cuddled him like a baby.
A hour later he had another fit. It lasted about a minute. I had to bite my hand to prevent myself from saying, "I told you so. Now, do you believe me?"
Lorraine, obviously, was freaked out. For all the talk of "episodes" we had never actually seen Moon The Cat have a fit before. We have seen the drunken movement and the difficulty in walking and the fact that one out of three times he misses his litter tray, but he has never had a fit in front of us before.
We took a taxi to an emergency vet. Moon The Cat was examined. Blood was taken. The emergency vet said that Moon The Cat has severely low blood sugar and wanted to know if we were giving him the right food and the right dosage of insulin when we inject him. Of course we fucking are!
Moon The Cat was kept in overnight on a glucose drip. We picked him up this morning. Moon The Cat had another fit during the night, but this morning seemed more together. We took him home. The vet said to take Moon The Cat to his normal vet on Monday as, although he had ascertained that the problem was low blood sugar, he didn't know why it was happening. He also didn't know why the fits were happening.
Moon The Cat has been having fits on and off all day for very short periods of time. He is not moving very well. Lorraine is taking food to him. She will not leave him alone. She told me to go out as she did not need me under her feet. I declined.
Now, I am prepared to be the bad guy here. I love that cat, but it is time to end this nonsense. Moon The Cat is not going to get any better. He is 16 years old. He has no quality of life. He is suffering. We are suffering (or is it just me, the selfish bastard?) It has seemed to me that recently that everything that goes on in the house is being dictated by Moon The Cat's health, and let's ignore for the moment the distasteful question of how much money it is costing us (although you might like to know that the bill for Saturday night's jaunt to the emergency vet cost near on three hundred quid, and I fully expect at least another hundred quid to be spent tomorrow when Lorraine goes to our normal vet.)
Can't Lorraine see that this is now pointless and that we need to stop this? Am I really such a shit? Am I really being so insensitive? I have not come out and said bluntly, "Moon has got to go", but Lorraine knows that I think. I would like honest opinions if anybody wants to give them, because I don't know how to tackle this. I don't want it to go on for the next couple of months, or god forbid, into next year. We are damaged already and are getting more damaged.
I swear to whatever God you believe in that I just want things to be right. I love Lorraine.
# posted by Pynchon @ 9:31 pm 
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you're not being a selfish bastard (at least, I don't think you are). 16 years is a pretty damn good innings for a cat, and if he's getting no quality of life, then is it really worth putting him through this. I know her heart is in the right place, but what's Lorraine's motive in keeping this going? Is it really in Moon's best interests, or is she hanging onto something else?
My mum and dad's cat is about the same age, and she has kidney problems, has lost loads of weight and is a bit unsteady on her feet. She's also gone deaf. But you know what? the contrary bloody creature seems to be thriving. She's allowed in at night now, which seems to be helping, but I had to laugh out loud when I watched my dad giving her her pill. Obviously, as she's a cat, she doesn't make it easy. Dad has a pill-giving device thing that he uses to push the pill into her throat, and he then stokes her throat, holding her tight until she swallows it. She then gets put down, stalks away, casts a baleful look over her shoulder and then spits that damn pill out.
I swear it's the defiance that's keeping her alive!
And if your love for that woman is as apparent to her as it is to me reading this, then I think you'll be fine. I hope you'll be fine.
ST
My mum and dad's cat is about the same age, and she has kidney problems, has lost loads of weight and is a bit unsteady on her feet. She's also gone deaf. But you know what? the contrary bloody creature seems to be thriving. She's allowed in at night now, which seems to be helping, but I had to laugh out loud when I watched my dad giving her her pill. Obviously, as she's a cat, she doesn't make it easy. Dad has a pill-giving device thing that he uses to push the pill into her throat, and he then stokes her throat, holding her tight until she swallows it. She then gets put down, stalks away, casts a baleful look over her shoulder and then spits that damn pill out.
I swear it's the defiance that's keeping her alive!
And if your love for that woman is as apparent to her as it is to me reading this, then I think you'll be fine. I hope you'll be fine.
ST
Poor Moon.
The cat I grew up with died at sixteen of leukemia.
What's wrong with Lorraine is grief, John. She knows he's dying and she's not coping with that very well. We know you're being supportive. She'll appreciate it later.
Wouldn't it be better to let him slip away with dignity with his family around him, than to wake up to a dead cat one morning?
The cat I grew up with died at sixteen of leukemia.
What's wrong with Lorraine is grief, John. She knows he's dying and she's not coping with that very well. We know you're being supportive. She'll appreciate it later.
Wouldn't it be better to let him slip away with dignity with his family around him, than to wake up to a dead cat one morning?
It is a very difficult thing when a family member is dying (pet or otherwise). Over the years I have taken three of our pets to be put to sleep due to illness & loss of quality of life - I can't bear to see them suffer. It makes me seem the hard one, as my husband is unable to bring himself to take them. But I'm not hard and it hurts my heart every time, but I have to think "isn't it worse for them to suffer".
I think Lithaborn is right, Lorraine is grieving. All my best to you, Lorraine and Moon. I hope all goes well in the end.
I think Lithaborn is right, Lorraine is grieving. All my best to you, Lorraine and Moon. I hope all goes well in the end.
I know from hard experience that much as I love some animals, sometimes, it's just their time to move on.
Poor Moon, bless it's heart! hang in there, I'm thinking about the 3 of you and sending good thoughts.
I know exactly what you're going through. Having seen my beloved cat go through hell, and then suddenly get taken from us was almost too much.
At the time of his final illness, it was felt that he was no longer getting the quality of life that he had. But then he was very seriously ill.
So, you are not a selfish bastard, just realistic.
At the time of his final illness, it was felt that he was no longer getting the quality of life that he had. But then he was very seriously ill.
So, you are not a selfish bastard, just realistic.
it's a tricky one. My deaf cat spent a month recently using my new carpet as its litter tray. My mums answer to the problem (this from a woman who has owned cats for thirty years); get rid of it.
I can't get rid of my cat. I'd rather spend a fortune on a new carpet.
If the cat is suffering, take the vets advice, and make sure you both hear that advice so Lorraine isn't getting it second hand from you.
I can't get rid of my cat. I'd rather spend a fortune on a new carpet.
If the cat is suffering, take the vets advice, and make sure you both hear that advice so Lorraine isn't getting it second hand from you.
You know what I would do if he was mine. I told you. And you know I love animals to pieces. Which is why I would let him go, as I believe in euthanasia. Your vet needs to say this, because Lorraine thinks you have ulterier motives. Unfortunatley, the vet may be one who just wont say it. They have lots of reasons for being like this, most of them involve being weak of liver.
So, I understand your predicament and hope that Lorraine can come to the party and do the right thing by Moon.
ps He's having the fits because of the diabetes. When it is this advanced, this is what happens. It is awful and will probably only get worse because there is a point where cats organs etc just wont respond to treatment like they should, because it is advanced etc etc...
So, I understand your predicament and hope that Lorraine can come to the party and do the right thing by Moon.
ps He's having the fits because of the diabetes. When it is this advanced, this is what happens. It is awful and will probably only get worse because there is a point where cats organs etc just wont respond to treatment like they should, because it is advanced etc etc...
I love both of my cats dearly, but I'd rather deal with the pain of putting them down than watch them suffer in silence over a long period of time. If, at the end of my days, I have no quality of life, I'd like someone to care about me enough to put me out of my misery.
Suburban Hen is right -- the vet should say it. Could you take Moon in together and have a serious talk with the vet? A situation like this requires a third party. Good luck.
Poor Moon... and you and Lorraine. Losing an animal is so damned hard. But watching them suffer is even worse, and, as you've pointed out, just makes things worse for everyone involved.
If he's suffering, he should be helped on his way with dignity and love. If he isn't, just play it out and see how he gets on. But it certainly sounds like he can't be enjoying life very much at this point.
Have you told Lorraine you love Moon the Cat? That you'll miss him badly too? It's obvious that you care lots about him... I find it hard to grasp that she doesn't realise this. But it must be terribly hard for her as well, and I guess we take these things out on those closest to us.
My thoughts are with all of you. And I don't think you're a selfish bastard at all.
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If he's suffering, he should be helped on his way with dignity and love. If he isn't, just play it out and see how he gets on. But it certainly sounds like he can't be enjoying life very much at this point.
Have you told Lorraine you love Moon the Cat? That you'll miss him badly too? It's obvious that you care lots about him... I find it hard to grasp that she doesn't realise this. But it must be terribly hard for her as well, and I guess we take these things out on those closest to us.
My thoughts are with all of you. And I don't think you're a selfish bastard at all.
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