Dirac's kidney insufficiency when it recently was diagnosed after three months of various puzzling illnesses, including the highest temperature the Vet had ever seen and a front leg's abscess the size of a ping pong ball, logged in at a quality-of-life-destroying sixty five percent.
Dirac being only five years old made his developing the disease unusual as it is seen typically in much older cats. In any case, it is mostly a hidden sickness. As the damage spreads, super cells, nephrons, take on the burden of purification until they, too, give out, and that's when pronounced symptoms appear like bloody vomit, loss of appetite/weight, lacklustre fur, lethargy, excessive urination, and disorientation. The earliest symptom is gradually increasing thirst which was not easy to note in Dirac as he went outdoors a great deal. A cure is not possible, only a treatment consisting of three days of IV to lessen the accumulated toxins that his kidneys are no longer able to filter. He spent the nights with us, but his vein was kept open via a device and bandaged until the treatment was finished. He improved for a week during which he went out to sniff out intriguing smells and climb trees, manicuring his claws with great enthusiasm all the time looking at me with bright eyes. He again deteriorated to the point where he stopped eating and couldn't walk in a straight line because his eyes no longer tracked his head movements.
Before we brought him to the Vet for the last time, we had discussed euthanising Dirac and continued to so while he was in his carrier letting out feeble cries from time to time in the back seat. When asked how much suffering he was experiencing, the Vet stated that no one knows exactly how much, but since his quality of life was so diminished, that he without a doubt was suffering. I also kept in mind that one Vet had written on the Web that constant tail waving in cats, unlike dogs, is the equivalent of crying in humans; the last two days Dirac's tail never stopped wagging. She informed us of the enormous damage his kidneys had sustained and that the positive effects would last just a week, necessitating repeated bouts of the invasive treatment.
Once those two aspects were made clear, The Calm One and I nodded in silent agreement that Dirac would be euthanised as soon as possible. She put him to sleep while we gently touched him as we wept. Then The Calm One remained and I left to wait in our car while she finished administering the second injection, the one to stop his heart. As I saw The Calm One approach, he was dangling the empty carrier, the carrier in which he had carried Dirac so many times in the past three months. His face was marked with anguish but his step with determination. To do the right thing is never easy.
I have decided not to post a photo of our beautiful boy when he was healthy as the biggest ordeal for me was to see him get progressively and irreversibly unhealthy of which I had the hardest time to accept though I eventually did. He was sick, very sick, when we authorised his death. What I want to remember is despite his bad state he died in dignity, with our loving him to the end (we placed our caressing fingers as close to his nose as possible so perhaps he could smell our scent and know it was us, that he was not with strangers) and the Vet calmly, expertly ending his misery. That scene will be lodged in my memory always. The following day I remarked to The Calm One that I felt remiss I was no longer offering constant care to Dirac, to which he replied, that by ensuring him a peaceful death, I fullfilled an important aspect of that care.
Our three-year old cat, Eli, bounds with energy and loves his food. Cats are marvels.
Dirac being only five years old made his developing the disease unusual as it is seen typically in much older cats. In any case, it is mostly a hidden sickness. As the damage spreads, super cells, nephrons, take on the burden of purification until they, too, give out, and that's when pronounced symptoms appear like bloody vomit, loss of appetite/weight, lacklustre fur, lethargy, excessive urination, and disorientation. The earliest symptom is gradually increasing thirst which was not easy to note in Dirac as he went outdoors a great deal. A cure is not possible, only a treatment consisting of three days of IV to lessen the accumulated toxins that his kidneys are no longer able to filter. He spent the nights with us, but his vein was kept open via a device and bandaged until the treatment was finished. He improved for a week during which he went out to sniff out intriguing smells and climb trees, manicuring his claws with great enthusiasm all the time looking at me with bright eyes. He again deteriorated to the point where he stopped eating and couldn't walk in a straight line because his eyes no longer tracked his head movements.
Before we brought him to the Vet for the last time, we had discussed euthanising Dirac and continued to so while he was in his carrier letting out feeble cries from time to time in the back seat. When asked how much suffering he was experiencing, the Vet stated that no one knows exactly how much, but since his quality of life was so diminished, that he without a doubt was suffering. I also kept in mind that one Vet had written on the Web that constant tail waving in cats, unlike dogs, is the equivalent of crying in humans; the last two days Dirac's tail never stopped wagging. She informed us of the enormous damage his kidneys had sustained and that the positive effects would last just a week, necessitating repeated bouts of the invasive treatment.
Once those two aspects were made clear, The Calm One and I nodded in silent agreement that Dirac would be euthanised as soon as possible. She put him to sleep while we gently touched him as we wept. Then The Calm One remained and I left to wait in our car while she finished administering the second injection, the one to stop his heart. As I saw The Calm One approach, he was dangling the empty carrier, the carrier in which he had carried Dirac so many times in the past three months. His face was marked with anguish but his step with determination. To do the right thing is never easy.
I have decided not to post a photo of our beautiful boy when he was healthy as the biggest ordeal for me was to see him get progressively and irreversibly unhealthy of which I had the hardest time to accept though I eventually did. He was sick, very sick, when we authorised his death. What I want to remember is despite his bad state he died in dignity, with our loving him to the end (we placed our caressing fingers as close to his nose as possible so perhaps he could smell our scent and know it was us, that he was not with strangers) and the Vet calmly, expertly ending his misery. That scene will be lodged in my memory always. The following day I remarked to The Calm One that I felt remiss I was no longer offering constant care to Dirac, to which he replied, that by ensuring him a peaceful death, I fullfilled an important aspect of that care.
Our three-year old cat, Eli, bounds with energy and loves his food. Cats are marvels.