Lora <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
Belinda could you please add my beloved Stray to the
CLS? Thanks!
Thursday 01-26-06 me and Christopher (my husband) got
up around 2:00 P.M. with intentions of driving to
Owensboro, KY to cash his check and to buy a can of
Bright Beginnings baby formula (stocking up for
delivery.)
While Chistopher is in the shower I am downstairs
loading the dishwasher that turns into sweeping the
kitchen floor (I am obsessive-compulsive like that. I
have trouble stopping at one chore. They easily roll
into two and three, etc.)
Anyway, I open the backdoor to sweep out the cat
litter that has been kicked out of the utility room
litter box when I noticed Stray, my neutered male
orange-tabby cat who would have been two (2) years old
in March) happily batting at something in the back
yard.
Thinking nothing of it I step out side to investigate.
He had a baby field mouse and it was unharmed!
Awww...Stray was playing gently as he always did. No
harm done. I picked up the mouse...I had an idea!
I raced back in the house, leaving Stray to look for
the missing mouse, and made a beeline to the bathroom.
My husband was still in the shower. Hehe!
"Look! Ain't it cute!" I squealed with a huge smile on
my face. Christopher slides open the shower door and
just about comes unglued right there!
"Why, that's...that's...where the hell did that come
from?" He stammered. "And why aren't you dressed yet?"
I looked down at the pajamas I still wore. "I was
loading the dishwasher." I explained still holding the
little mouse.
Christopher is clearly getting annoyed really quick.
"Put that damn mouse outside were it belongs and get
dressed. We are never going to make in to the bank in
time!
LOL. Grouch!
Heaven only knew that was the last happy moment that I
would have for several days to come.
As we were leaving the house Stray approaches us
wanting in the garage to eat. He is an outside cat via
day and an garage kitty via night/winter.
"We have to let him in." I tell my husband. "He is
hungry."
"Lora we do not have time!" Christopher barks. "We are
already running behind schedule!"
I become very angry. If my kids want to eat. They eat!
To hell with being on time!
Christopher unlocks the door with a huff and Stray
walks through the utility room straight into the
garage. Did I jsut see Stray stagger? Na! I tell
myself. I am just seeing things.
Had I know that would have been the last time I would
see my baby walk, I would have never left his side!
So we close the garage door and lock the side house
door. We were off! That was around 3:15 P.M. - 3:30
P.M.
We never made it to the bank. By the time we pulled
into the parking lot they were locking the doors from
the inside out.
Christopher was livid because of the mouse and Stray.
Little did he know he would come to regret that anger.
We arrive back home around 5:00 P.M. to a quiet,
normal-looking house. Everything seemed to be fine and
in its place, afterall we were only gone roughly two
(2) hours.
Then I hear it. Meowing. Constant meowing.
"Uh-oh." I tell Christopher. "Mason has another milk
ring again." Only he does not. Mason rounds the corner
at the sound of his name with nothing in his mouth.
Okay. It is time to do a head-count then. We open all
of the doors to see if anyone had been accidently
locked up. Nothing. We count all ten heads in the
house. Normal. Then who the hell is meowing?
I turn my attention to the garage and shear panic
washes over me. There is Stray trying to claw his way
off on the pillow. His hide leg are completely
paralyzed! He slithers across the room and bile wails
up in the back of my throat. I scream and run back
into the house.
Completely beside myself in hysteria, I cry out for
Christopher. All the while poor Stray is just holling
in agony, begging for us to help him.
It is 5:00 P.M. at night, Christopher is preparing to
go to work (working third shift) I am nine (9) months
pregnant and I cancled our "emergency" credit card
last Friday 01-20-06! Oh, God! I was going to puke!
What were we going to do?
I race upstairs to find my parents. I scream/cry what
I had found. I beg for money. Babbling about emergency
clinic...life threating...in pain.
My folks come downstairs thinking that the situation
was not "all that bad." HA! Mom returns from the
garage white as a sheet.
It is now 5:30 P.M. and something has to be done! I
call Fort Branch (my veterinarian) in an off-hand
chance that they would still be open. They were! I try
so hard to remain calm as I explained to Kristi that
my kitty had hind-leg paralysis, but had not been hit
my a car. He was in the garage all day. He even walked
into the garage by himself!
"How soon can you get here?" Kristi ask.
"Now. Can I come now?" I beg losing my composure.
I hang up the phone trying to function like a normal
human being in a crisis. (Not easy to do.) Christopher
lines the carrying crate with pillows to support
Stray's non-working hind legs and blankets to keep him
warm.
I keep telling myself that everything will be fine. He
is not in shock, he is breathing, there is no blood,
he is struggling/fighting (which is a sign of wanting
to live) he has passed a bowl movement, etc.
I scoop up the bowl movement and place it in a
disposable plastic container. Stool sample. Just in
case. For process of elimination purposes.
At this point, I can only think in baby steps. My
brain will not process anything else. I try to think
of how this happened, but my brain shuts down with
every attempt.
He fell off the cat-tree tower. Cruched pevis? He was
playing with a mouse earlier this afternoon. Poisonous
mouse? Did the farmers spray their fields today?
Antifreeze! Did Stray get into any chemicals? I look.
Nothing is out of place. No containers are spilled.
My dad offers to take me to the vet's office so that
Christopher can go to work. Unfortunately, someone has
to drive me for I was too emotional. Plus being nine
(9) months pregnant it was not safe for me or for
Stray! God, how I resented being pregnant at that very
moment! This stupid belly was preventing me from
taking care of my baby! Stray was going to die!
It takes an hour to get to the hospital. It is now
6:30 P.M. and my baby is still alive. He is in
excruciating pain, but alive. I try to relax. We are
here. We made it. We will find a way to pay for the
surgey. Stray is coming home.
The door opens and the Tim (vet tech asks me to come
in.) The vet is there. No Stray. I saw two (2) X-rays
on the wall lit up and what appeared to be the
hind-end of a cat...my Stray.
"Kitty is not well." The vet said.
"Okay. So what do we do about it?" I ask.
"Unfortunately, there is nothing that we can do."
My world stoped. I see the vet taking, but I cannot
hear him. What was he saying? Clot? Heart condition?
Underline problem. Moved into an artery and stopped at
the Y junctions of his back legs...paralyzed.
All of a sudden I am pulled through a vortex and I
hear him say "Saddle Thrombus" a.k.a. thromboembolism.
Your kitty has Saddle Thrombus. It is a secondary
symptom to cardiac disease. Stray has a bad heart.
Aortic thromboembolism, also referred to as saddle
thrombus, is a common complication associated with all
types of heart disease in the cat. A thrombosis is the
formation of a blood clot. An embolism is when the
clot lodges within a vessel. It is thought that clots
form in one chamber of the left side of the diseased
heart. Eventually, these clots break free and travel
in the blood vessels until they become lodged or
stuck.
Saddle thrombi get their name because the blood clot
resides at the junction of the aorta and the arteries
of the back leg (iliac arteries) and resembles a
saddle. Since the iliac arteries supply blood to the
back legs, the blood clot cuts off this circulation,
and the rear muscles are no longer able to function.
"There is no blood circulation to the lower part of
his body, the vet continues, I clipped one of his toe
nails past the "quick" and nothing. No response from
Stray and no blood."
"Without blood circulation, there in no oxygen getting
to the muscles or tissue. His legs are literally
dying."
I look at the vet and started to realize what he was
saying. Stray was going to lose is his back legs. He
basically already had.
"Fine, I told him, can you sever the nerve ending to
his back legs so he will not have chronic pain with
being paraplegic? He has already lost the fuction and
mobility of his hind legs. I can deal with that. Just
save him!"
"We cannot, the vet says. Since Stray has a bad heart
he will most likey continue to throw clots. Eventually
a clost will go to his brain and ultimately kill him.
His heart is nothing more than a ticking time-bomb
waiting to explode. You are luck to be able to say
good-bye. I am sorry."
Euthanasia? Was I hearing what he was not saying?! But
I do not believe in euthanasia! This cannot be right!
This cannot the only option! No treatment?! No cure?!
My baby is dying?! But why?
Stray was in so much pain that he could not even focus
on my face. He had tore the pillow to shreds out of
frusteration and agony. He had cut his gums on the
carrier trying to get out.
The choice was clear.
I lowered my head and whispered to him. I told him
what a brave boy he was and that I loved him so very
much. I wanted him to stay longer, but understood that
he needed to go. I asked if he could see me and for a
moment he quit struggling and look straight into my
eyes. "Yes, baby. I tell him, the pain stops now. I am
going to make it all go away."
And at that moment I turn to Tim and ask him to take
Stray away. I could not watch. I wanted to hold him
while he slept, but he was in so much pain that I was
afraid of doing more harm than good.
I looked over my shoulder as I left the room, watching
my baby one last time. I told him good-bye and then
closed the door.
Stray was back in my care via 7:00 P.M. It literally
only took a few moments.
Kristi said she will bill me. I hugged her. I do not
know where I would be without my vet! They did not
have to see me, but they did...after hours even!
We took Stray home and we buried him Friday 01-27-06
beside my beloved Peeper (my 14 month FeLV positive
kitty.)
After Rafftee passed away back in August 2005 (my
horse) I thought I was done with death. At least for a
yew years. Funny how it sneaks up on you!
Stray was the baby. He was not even two (2) years old
and yet he was the sickest of them all. He had a bad
heart and no one even knew! Not even me and I am his
his mother!
I try so hard to remember everything. To be everthing
to everyone. To care, love and support each fur-kid
individually and yet some still manage to slip in
between the cracks. For almost two (2) years I was
completely oblivious to my baby's condition. Heart
disease. A silent killer.
Stray will be forever missed and eternally loved. May
he be free of his broken body and of any earthly pain.
He is whole again and in a better place. Hopefully
keeping Rafftee and Peeper company. Until with me
again my sweet baby...my brave boy...
In all of my 22 years of rescue I have never once had
the happen to ANY of my kitties! I have never even
heard of "Saddle Thrombus" until now. Stray was the
first for me and hopefully the last.
__________________________________________________
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Barb+Smoky the House Puma+El Bandito Malito
"My cat the clown: paying no mind to whom he should impress. Merely living his life, doing what pleases him, and making me smile."
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