Kittens: Part 2

Last post I wrote about my adorable additions to the family.  But that story has a sad side.

The week before Christmas, Storm started sleeping more, and playing less.  Now I know what you’re thinking—cats sleep! That’s like, their thing, they sleep all day. And it’s true that kittens sleep about 18 hours a day. But during those other 6 hours, my kittens were very active little guys. So we noticed. Whenever Shadow tried to play with him, he would just walk away and go lie down somewhere else. When we dangled a fun toy in front of his face, he barely raised his head. I rolled a yarn ball (his favorite) past him a couple times, and he slowly watched it pass by without moving his body.

We hoped it was just a cold or something, but after a few days, nothing had changed. We noticed he wasn’t eating very much, so we called the vet to make an appointment. Of course, this was Monday of Christmas week. Two of the vets were out on vacation, and all the other slots were filled up. But the Vet-tech promised she’d call if anything opened up.

Storm got his appointment and the Vet said he had a slight fever, and had actually lost about a pound since we got him. He took a blood sample and said he would run some tests. 250 dollars later, we had no answers for what was wrong with our kitten. They gave us an appetite stimulant and sent us on our way, and the vet called every day to check on how Storm was doing.

The day before Christmas, nothing had changed, and the Vet asked to bring him in early the day after Christmas to do some more tests.  Christmas was wonderful, and we got lots of toys for our new kittens. Unfortunately, Shadow was the only one to play with them. The next morning I woke up early and got to the animal clinic ten minutes before they opened.  We went in and found that Storm has lost another half a pound, and still had a fever. An X-ray showed that he had fluid in his abdomen, and when the vet extracted it, they discovered a straw like color, which could only indicate one thing. He told me that Storm most likely has FIP, and he seemed so sure that he said we probably didn’t have to do a test. FIP, he told me, is a fatal disease for which there is no treatment.  It’s a disease where the kitten will slowly waste away, sometimes days, sometimes longer.

I called Jim and of course started sobbing on the phone with him.  He said to do the tests, just to be sure.  A few days later, the tests came back.  Storm was diagnosed with FeLV, basically Feline Leukemia.  Although the test came back inconclusive for FIP, the vet assured us that it was the only thing that could cause the straw liquid in his belly.

But Storm didn’t seem like he was in pain. He wasn’t enjoying kitten life as much as Shadow, but he would walk upstairs and eat some tuna juice or chicken broth.  He stopped jumping into the sink. In fact, he stopped jumping anywhere, instead opting to slowly crawl onto the chair, or walk from the couch over my dresser and onto the bed. But some days were better than others. The Vet called to check in, and Jim told him with a pinch of hope, that he seems like he’s doing better today.  But the vet chalked that up to the fever dropping, and that it would probably spike again soon.

Shadow kept trying to play with Storm, wondering why he didn’t want to wrestle. He seemed to be going crazy not having anyone to play with. Storm continued to walk slowly around the house, following me upstairs just to go back to sleep again. Whenever I would pet him I would lean in close and look him in the eyes. “You tell me when you’re ready” I’d say… knowing it would have to be my decision.

He continued to lose weight, and last week he wet the bed. I didn’t even notice it until I got ready to go to sleep. Jim and I stripped the bed and did the laundry, and Storm slept on the couch that night. The next morning, the blanket on the couch reeked of cat pee.  Maybe he couldn’t feel it, or maybe he was just too weak or too tired to get up to go to the bathroom. We started putting a towel under him and trying to get him to sleep on the small (machine washable) cat bed. But sometimes Shadow wanted to sleep in Storms bed (he’s gained some weight from eating all of Storm’s leftovers) and they didn’t both fit, so Storm would move back on the bed and the next day we’d be stripping the bed and overworking the washing machine.

“I keep telling him to let us know when he’s ready,” I told Jim. “Maybe this is his way of telling us.” We agreed that it was time to let him go, and I called the Vet to make an appointment. Tomorrow morning we are taking him, and hopefully sending him to a better place… whether that’s cat heaven or reincarnation, I don’t know.

So this is my public goodbye to my kitten storm, all of seven months old. I hope those three months that you were with us were wonderful. And I hope you will be happy wherever you end up.