Poor little Max.
He's been sick with something for a couple of weeks now, but today was the first day I felt up to driving him to the vet clinic. He's been behaving very uncharacteristically, and he's been losing weight. The final straw today was when he wouldn't eat a thing, even when I put him in front of the food dish (he's not walking around much on his own). He used the litter box, and so little came out.
The only funny part about this was when I got to the clinic, and we had to wait, one of the clinic cats walked by me, and Max, scared, mute and fragile before, absolutely sprang to life, hissing and snarling, letting that cat know I was his people, and that the cat was in his space. Unfortunately, it riled him up so much that when we got in with the vet, he was in a right piss-foul mood, and he was going to let the vet techs know it too. He vet injected fluid to re-hydrate him, and gave me a few pills to take home to stimulate his appetite while we waited for the results. For a short time, he started to look more like the old Max.
Shortly after we got home, the vet called with bad news. Max is severely anemic, and he's infected with a blood parasite. And his immune system was failing. And his white blood cells were lower than they should be. And his potassium levels were below normal (though all his kidney levels were fine--this stumped her). She was concerned that he might have Feline Leukemia, or worse, Feline Immunovirus, so I okayed further testing on what was left of the blood sample. If it was positive for either...
It was upsetting for me to hear of course, but he's 16 years old, and he's had a good life filled with love and care. While I waited, I called Mum and Dad; after all, Max was her cat to begin with. We were all sad at the prospect of losing our Max.
When the vet called back again, this time she had far better news: no Feline Leukemia or FIV! The blood parasite could be treated with antibiotics and steriods. But he will need the steroids and potassium supplementation for the rest of his life. We discussed a lot of options, and we developed a care plan: start him on the three treatments, and then next week, we add iron injection to help stimulate his red blood cell count.
The whole time this was happening, I was a wreck. Max has been a part of my life for 16 years. I was torn between putting him down or aggressive treatment. I don't want to prolong his life only to see him suffer. But the vet assured me that he wasn't in pain, and all her talk was about treatment, treatment, treatment. Not once did she discuss him dying. Later, as I spoke to Gail (who is sadly familiar with sick and dying cats), she informed me that there are serious liability issues for vets if they don't let people know if a pet is dying. Well, she's quite confident, so I okayed the treatments. The good news for Max is that for now, while we try to increase his weight, all restrictions are off...anything the little monster wants, he can have.
I gave him a small portion of shaved ham to celebrate. He gobbled it all up without hesitating.
A sign...
...Wish you were here.
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