I first met this crazy Black Siamese cat three years ago August. Someone thought it would be a good idea for us to get a pet, a cat, and somehow we ended up with two — this black cat and his litter mate, a tabby. I named them Harry and Dash. They were about five or six months old and full of mischief. Dash was a scratcher and a biter. Not Harry. It took a while, but I broke down Dash's resistance. He's now a cuddle cat. Harry was the alpha cat. He was smart, adventurous, but he was also extremely affectionate. He and I bonded big time.
Dash and Harry, six months
Brothers
I like boy cats, and like to play with them, but Harry always knew to keep his claws in and not bite too hard when it was me he was "wrestling." His brother can not always be counted on to remember to do that. Harry could jump higher than any cat I had ever seen, doing flips and somersaults in mid-air. But Harry also developed a delicate tummy and had to be on a special diet.
Harry rescues a balloon
Harry liked to keep up with technology
Last Thursday he threw up multiple times, so I took him to the vet first thing the next morning. They said it was a recurrence of his tummy issues (gastroenteritis) and gave me some anti-vomit pills and some more of his special food. Over the long holiday weekend he didn't bounce back. He was thirsty and drank plenty of water, but wouldn't touch his food. I brought him in again first thing Tuesday morning and after some bloodwork and x-rays it was determined that he had an intestinal obstruction, and that the vet would operate the next morning. The vet offered to bring him to the emergency clinic to stay overnight, but Harry seemed to be doing well, and the vet was going to check in on him later at the clinic anyway at 10pm.
I got a call just after 10 that Harry had passed away, probably a few hours earlier that evening. I am now filled with not just pain, but regret and so many "what ifs?" What if we had agreed that he should go to the emergency vet? What if the vet had been able to operate that afternoon instead of the next morning? What if the damn cat hadn't swallowed whatever it was that he did that caused this whole mess in the first place?
My gorgeous Harry
None of those questions really matter. Harry is gone and I already miss him so. I have to find a time to tell the kid today. After school. There's really no good time. Dash is sitting at the end of my bed as I type this, in his usual late-night spot. Will he notice that his brother hasn't returned? Or understand my sadness? You were supposed to have nine fucking lives, Harry. You were only three years old. It's so unfair. I'm so sorry. You were such a great cat.
For what it's worth -- and, right now, probably nothing at all -- but you did nothing wrong. The vet himself didn't see any need to schedule the operation immediately. And the emergency vet ... well, I doubt he could have done anything, either, given how quickly this must have gone. Harry knew you loved him. You know he loved you. The love will last.--Mario
Thanks, Mario. That actually does mean something. I suspect that no vet, emergency or otherwise, would have helped this have a different outcome. But it stinks. The kid and I bought a frame this afternoon and we are going to find a photo of Harry to put in it. She picked it out. It's heart-shaped. ♥
If a cat swallows something that won't "pass", by the time the symptoms show up and the correct diagnosis is made, it's probably already too late. It's never happened to me, but it did happen to a friend of mine, and that's what her vet told her. And, yes, it does stink. Big time. The framed photograph, though, is a wonderful idea. And I suspect you'll also find that, in a way, Harry's still around, just out of sight, and will be until you're ready to let go. Love works that way.
3 comments:
For what it's worth -- and, right now, probably nothing at all -- but you did nothing wrong. The vet himself didn't see any need to schedule the operation immediately. And the emergency vet ... well, I doubt he could have done anything, either, given how quickly this must have gone. Harry knew you loved him. You know he loved you. The love will last.--Mario
Thanks, Mario. That actually does mean something. I suspect that no vet, emergency or otherwise, would have helped this have a different outcome. But it stinks. The kid and I bought a frame this afternoon and we are going to find a photo of Harry to put in it. She picked it out. It's heart-shaped. ♥
If a cat swallows something that won't "pass", by the time the symptoms show up and the correct diagnosis is made, it's probably already too late. It's never happened to me, but it did happen to a friend of mine, and that's what her vet told her. And, yes, it does stink. Big time. The framed photograph, though, is a wonderful idea. And I suspect you'll also find that, in a way, Harry's still around, just out of sight, and will be until you're ready to let go. Love works that way.
Post a Comment