Friday, September 16, 2005

Tobie Wan Kanobie Loses the Battle

It's been a while since I've been able to post. I haven't had the heart to bother. My dear little cat didn't make it back from the vet. After gaining some ground for an entire day, on the morning of the 7th September she was found once again in a very bad state. Her BGL had plummeted again- apparently her pancreas responded to the IV glucose and saline by over producing again. The operation that could have saved her life would have killed her anyway- she just couldn't survive an anesthetic. She fought bravely for most of the day- until we could get there to see her at about 5:00pm. Dax, her doctor, explained the options and they all sounded grim. Tobie would suffer if we tried to save her- then she would die a long and painful death anyway. We were allowed in to see her. It was a heart rending sight. Her breathing was shallow and rapid. Her eyes a little glazed. She couldn't purr anymore and her meow was a pain filled yowl- nothing like the soft sweet mew she always greeted us with.

I watched her through tears- barely able to breathe myself. I know how painful a hypo can be, but Tobes was living the ultimate hypo nightmare- constantly shivering, her brain not working properly. I tried picking her up and she just slumped over in my arms. I had to put her back into the cage and cover her with her rug. I just kept patting her and thanking her for all of the wonderful moments she had given us. While I told her about the difference she had made in our lives she struggles towards a very ragged purr. I remembered the nights she had comforted me through bad nypos (night hypos). She often woke me just as I was sinking down the slope into serious hypo. Did she know what was happening and woke me to help me? I'll never know. She was a puss with a load of spirit- when Kenny, our wacky terrier, ran past her once too often she would push out her back legs to trip him then whack him on the nose while he was down. Tobes would cuddle up to Kenny when no one was in the room then hiss and spit at him if she spotted us- just to let us know that the dog was still very much her inferior who was only tolerated if nobody better was around.

How could we let our spirited girl suffer a long slow death? Bear asked Dax to help us let her go. He gave us more time to say goodbye while he arranged the paper work for her cremation. I whispered a few last secrets to her then Bear did the same. I put my hand under her head- covered her in the rug and rubbed her head while the injection went into her IV tube. I kept patting and scratching her favourite spots while telling her that she was loved and precious. The last sounds she heard were whispers of love and the last thing she saw was my face close to hers as I her scratched her ears. She went peacefully- no twiches or last gasps- she was ready and wanted to go. I thanked Dax in a barely audible croaky whisper then turned to Bear and fell into his arms. We held each other as we waited for the receptionist to process the bill. Then staggered outside to cry together.

So now there is a big empty space in our home. Tobie Wan Kanobie reminders are strewn through the house- her under bed basket, the half used bag of food, favourite rugs and old jumpers she slept on, her hair on some of my clothes. All of these things can drop me into a fugue of tears. I can't bear to come home some days to the empty courtyard. Where is my mewed greeting? The night time purr and leg rub? Who will sit through my Nypos so patiently?

Who'd have thought that such a small critter could take up so much space.


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