Wednesday, October 7, 2015

F.I.P. The 3 letters you don't ever want your cat to get.


This is the hardest post I have had to write.

A lot has happened since my last post. We decided to finally do some extensive renovations to the main living area of our house. Of course this actually translates into the whole house from top to bottom in total disarray. We started the demolition phase at the end of September  2013 and completed (more or less) in May 2014. The fireplace has been on hold and we will be completing it soon, if I don't change my mind again on the final design.

We took a much needed 1 week vacation to Cuba this year in January. It has been quite a while since hubby and I have been able to schedule a vacation away together. It was a nice trip until we got home.

The moment we got in the door we were greeted by Cheetah, who was all over me meowing his face off as if he were giving me hell for being gone for a whole 7 days. I picked him up for some hugs and right away I knew there was something very wrong. He had lost so much weight that it was obvious that he needed to be checked out by the vet. Cheetah had only ever needed to see a vet for his needles and never had any health issues the whole time we have had him with us.Our vet did house calls. This was so much less stressful on the cat than trying to take him in to see a vet.
It was snowing out quite heavy that evening and the vet was stuck north of Toronto. He said he would be out the following morning to see Cheetah.
He arrived and I explained how Cheetah had lost 4 pounds and normally weighed in at just over 16 pounds. Cheetah was also not eating. We tried everything we could think of to try to get him to eat, so he ended up eating a handful of treats that morning. The vet took some blood and checked his blood sugar level which was a bit low. We had to wait for the blood tests to come back and  then pick up some meds for him. His blood work had come back showing that Cheetah had a virus. The vet said without more tests he didn't know which one but he figured it was either FIV of Feline Leukemia, both very serious diseases and pretty much fatal.

The next day I frantically tried to get hold of the vet to tell him that I could not get Cheetah to take the liquid medications he has prescribed, and that he was getting much worse. When I did not hear back from him I decided to call the Cat Clinic. I figured if any one could help me with Cheetah it would be them.

The Cat Clinic only did house calls one day a week but I think they sensed the urgency in my voice and said they would make an exception. Within the hour Dr Robyn and the vet tech, Maria were at the door. They were so professional  and even sprayed everything they brought in with  a calming pheromone so Cheetah would not be any more stressed than he already was.They checked Cheetah over and suggested that they get him to the clinic so they could run some more thorough tests on him. They needed to get him re hydrated as well get him eating again.

It was the strangest feeling that evening not having Cheetah in the house. At this point I was still in denial, figuring that they would be able to fix him good as new and this whole nightmare would be over soon.

I went during my lunch hour the next day to visit Cheetah and talk to the vet. This was when I found out that the virus  was more than likely FIP Feline Infectious Peritonitis. The vet explained to me that they were testing for anything else they thought it might be before they had to admit that it could be FIP.

The next day after a round table discussion at the Cat Clinic with all the vets the conclusion was that Cheetah had FIP, and all we could do was make him comfortable during his final hours.

They explained to me that Cheetah appeared to be doing better and was eating again but it very well could just be the pain medication and antibiotics he was doped up on. So I brought him home on the Friday evening and he seemed to be so glad to be home. A few hours later he suddenly started running around the room in a panic with a look of terror in his eyes. I picked him up and calmed him down, but at this point I realized that he really was having a problem with his eyes. One of his pupils was a slit and the other was a huge black circle. I spent the night with him cuddled up close to my chest. He had another panic attack in the middle of the night and then settled down till morning.

I carried him with me as he looked around but I don't think he could see properly and he wouldn't let go of me. If I set him on the bed he just laid there staring off into space. I knew it was time for him to go. I couldn't bear to see him suffering. I call to the vets office and they came to the house. They let us make the decision that it was best not to have Cheetah suffering any longer. He went to sleep in my arms with me telling him how much I truly loved him and how much I was going to miss his love in return.

Afterwards the vet told us that we made the right decision and how we put Cheetah's well being first over our own feelings of wanting to hang on to him. The house never felt so empty once Cheetah left with the vet for that last time. We decided to have Cheetah cremated so I still had to make one final trip to the Cat Clinic to pick up his ashes a week later. It was so difficult to walk into the clinic and see everyone picking up their kitties in their cat carriers and I had to take my beloved Cheetah home in a small urn.

Cheetah is forever in my heart and our special bond will never be forgotten.

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