Also known as FuzzButt, StinkerButt, Pooka, and Fangs That Hang So Low (his indian name).
Today was a normal day when I got home from work, until I went to sit on the couch around 6:15 to watch some TV. I heard a strange noise, which I attributed to Fuzzy, who has been known to breathe heavily and sort of half snore while he sleeps. But it sounded different, so I went looking for him. And when I found him laying in front of the litter box and actually heard the noises he was making, I knew it wasn’t good. It was even worse when I picked him up and he was limp.
I immediately called my vet’s office, since I thought they had late office hours—and I was wrong. I then googled emergency vets in our area and there was one, so I called and said I would be there in 15 minutes. She forwarned me it would be a minimum $85 fee, which I honestly didn’t think was too bad. I was out the door within five minutes.
In the back of my mind, I knew something was wrong with him. He has always been a big cat—our “fat cat”—except lately, over the past 6 months to a year, he has lost quite a bit of weight…like maybe 5-8#. I just attributed it to the fact that he was getting older and not eating as much…but in the back of my mind, I KNEW something was wrong. Earlier this week, I actually told mysef I should take him to the vet for a round of tests, just to know what we might be dealing with. But he was still eating fine and drinking a lot, so I didn’t think about it TOO much.
So tonight, while somewhat of a surprise (he seemed fine when I saw him last night), also wasn’t a surprise.
So I get to the vet’s and the tech took his temperature, and then took it again because she couldn’t believe how low it was. It was 86, and apparently a normal temp should be 102-106 (or something along those lines). She got him a warm towel until the vet came in. One quick listen and she asked me if he had any history of liver or kidney problems (no) and then told me that his heart sounded bad, his lungs sounded bad, he was dehydrated, and he probably needed a blood transfusion. His gums were very pale (almost white), which she said was not a good sign, either. She said they could do bloodwork ($150), but even then, they might not have any good news, and even if they could determine what it was, he would still need a blood transfusion. And even then, he may only have a month or two.
It was at that point I decided it was time to let him go… He’s led a good life with me the past 13 years (the longest I’ve ever had any animal—we adopted him from my aunt and uncle when he was just 1.5 years old) and for all the joy he has brought to my life, he certainly deserved to die peacefully and without any more pain…with me at his side kissing his sweet little face. They gave me some time alone with him, then it was over in a matter of a minute.
Rest in Peace, Fuzzy. You will be missed terribly.