Your Pet Loss Stories

Small for his breed, but big for a kitten, he found me at a rough time in my life. He was living under cars and dumpsters, near a park in Philadelphia. Each day after work, he would follow me to my door. This happened two or three times before I knew this cat had chosen me.

I took him to the vet, got him all cleaned up, they said he was most likely some Maine Coon, or DLH, but definitely some Maine in him. They said that his breed could have HCM, but he never presented with murmur, and they said, orange cats are the sweetest, and this 5 pound 5 month old certainly was. How could a kitten have gotten along for so long in the wild, how could he have been able to maintain a decent weight? He was god's gift to me for all of what about to come to me.

Over the next ten years he and I shared the loss of family, of pets, of jobs, of wives, of many loved ones and many opportunities. WE shared, he helped me through all of that. He was always there with a moustached face, long orange hair, and big white paws. They were the size of silver dollars, and his voice, never more than a kitten cry, until the end.

I just got a new job, in a new city. I left Stewart behind, until I could find a place for both of us. I never made a choice without considering him, and it cost me at least one fiancée, and a few jobs, but I made him a promise, to always look out for his interests, to make sure he never had to experience pain, and to be the best friend I could. It was only fair, since he always did the same for me. My plan was to visit him on weekends, and then drive back to new work site, and repeat until I could afford, or find, a pet friendly apartment, or other rental. I spent the last weekend with him, he was happy to see me, but seemed just a little down. Not to down to play a bit, and to curl up and watch a movie, but I felt that he was somehow not himself, he spent more time away from me than he normally did, more time hidden, as cats always hide their pain and discomfort.

I left for the new job site, when I was there, over an hour and a half a way, I got a call from the people watching Stewart, they were frantic, and when I heard his voice, and the pain and the distress, I turned the car around, and sped back. When I first saw him, he had dragged himself out into the front room, to be with the others, and myself, no one could touch him without him reacting in agony, and trying to bite (can you blame him). I lifted him into the carrier, and drove to the closest emergency vet hospital, and the best one in the state.

An hour later, I was there, he had thrown a clot into his aorta... a possible effect of the dreaded Maine Coon, HCM, heart disease, which allows for blood to pool and clot, then travel to limbs, or other vessels. He had lost femoral pulse, but the tissue was still pink.

They gave him aggressive treatment, tPa, and expensive enzyme that digests clots, heparin, and hyperbaric chamber. I left him there, in tears, after seeing him as many times, and as much as they would let me. Never really wanting to leave him again... up until this time, the longest we had been apart was the first week of the new job, I had not taken more than 3 days off since 2007 when he found me. Except for the times when I had no job, and I was with him almost 24/7. So, the good news was that I had more time with him than most humans get to spend with their cats, and the bad, during that time, he helped me through so much diversity, that I knew if the time came, I would be devastated.

The next day was filled with ups and downs. The rounding doctors called, the clot hasn't dissolved, but his vitals are good, and the tissue doesn't look bad, then another call, clot has dissolved, but the tissue looks bad, another call, during diagnostics on his heart, we found lymphoma, and possible other large cell, or similar cancers, next call, his pulse returned to his hind legs, but the tissue has turned black, and the damage tissue is causing a cascade of damage... It was around this time, it was close to the end of my work day, that I was to see him.

They brought me in, and the doctor explained that in the time since we talked, he had gotten worse. He had gone into DIC, uncontrolled bleeding, and threw another clot into his front limb, and was in Ventricular Tachycardia. He was starting to decompensate, to go into multiple failures. They could keep him alive, he might have even survived, but without the use of his back legs, and in severe pain for what life he may have had, and that life was not going to last long. I am not the kind of person that puts a price on an animal's life, and they knew that, I would sell everything I own, eat PB&J for ever, and work five jobs, if there was any way for money to give me back my Stewart, and to have him not suffer.

The doctors at Michigan State University, are some of the best in the country. I should know, I worked with many of them, and have known many other animal doctors from Cornel, U. Penn, Ohio State and other top ranked schools. Their doctors are compassionate and kind, and Stewarts doctor told me that there was no chance of recovery without lasting suffering, and that the chance of any recovery was so remote, that it would be best to let him go. Remote, chance is what sticks with me, as I have witnessed miracles, like Stewart entering my life, and all he did for me, but I also saw the pain he was in, and I know just enough medicine to understand that recovery from DIC, along with the necrotic tissue, was going to be long and painful. He had enough pain on his own, he had shouldered mine as well, so with tears in my eyes, and sobbing uncontrollably, I decided to say good bye to my dearest friend.

"Thank you so much for being a part of my life, thank you, thank you, so very much, for every day you were there for me, every purr, every trick you learned, every smile you gave, thank you. There was never an animal that was more loved, and I will see you again. There will be birds to watch, pup-pups (favorite toy), to play with, and lots of people and other cats to love you and fawn over you, like every one always has... you were mine, and I was yours, I love you, you will be so missed, thank you, thank you, for being there, thank you, thank you, for helping me, good bye for now, I love you Stewart, I love you Stewart."

I couldn't stand to watch the last step, as I had seen too many animals take their last breath. I had seen him through this, his only trip to the vet for sickness. 10 years, and only ever wellness visits, a neutering, and the first visit to clean him up, and vaccinate him, test him, and chip him. 10 years and he always seemed healthy, to the doctors and to me. But inside, a ticking clock of heart disease, and the development of a cancer that would have never been seen, without the secondary symptoms that led to his passing. 10 years, and I fed him only the best grain free foods, raw foods, all the best for him, even when I could not afford to feed myself anything but generic or store brands, and little of that to boot, I fed him the very best. I gave him fresh filtered water, I elevated his bowl to make eating and drinking comfortable for a tall cat. I gave him all I could, and will continue to honor his memory, and his life the best way I can.

So, he is gone, but not forgotten, lost but not misplaced, he will remain with me forever. A piece of fuzz here, a toy there, and lots of pictures. He was and is, the best cat a boy could ever have. My boy, as I called him, could sit, speak, shake, and do many other tricks that lots of dogs struggle with. What I have learned from this is that if you have a cat that may have HCM, or a predisposition for cancer, get screenings and start treatments, but prepare yourself for a shorter life. That's the hard part, the shorter life. Still, early detection of HCM, even without a noticeable heart flutter, is possible by testing. A lot of cancer markers are detectible, but without knowing that there is a risk, the doctors will not run the tests. Normal wellness visits need to be tailored to your cat or dogs individual breed, suspected breed, or history.

Please say a prayer for Stewart and his human... they need quite a bit of help.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate the opportunity to tell my story.