More detail
Aug. 13th, 2008 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kellan_the_tabbyThanks to all of you who've commented. I don't know if I'll have the energy to reply to each individually; I'm running pretty low at the moment.
Taltos had been sort of slowly fading for a while -- getting skinnier at any rate, though as energetic as always in running to hide. He was always afraid, see, and I never managed to convince him he didn't have to be. I decided against taking him to the vet, because changes were it was just age, and adding the stress of vet visits and medication would likely negate any good the medications might have done.
I still don't know if it was the right decision, but it's the decision I made.
There have always been whole days when all I'd see of him was a pair of eyes under a table. He was always _afraid_, and I tried and tried and tried to teach him he didn't need to be, and I never managed it. So I mostly left him alone, except to check on him every once in a while.
A few days ago he was fine.
Yesterday he ran past me into the closet -- stumbling, almost dragging himself along, I went in after him immediately.
He still had the energy to scratch me up pretty good, but it was clear he wasn't okay. His legs weren't working right, his tongue was stuck partway out of his mouth and wouldn't go back in. Stroke, or possibly a brain tumor that finally got big enough to push on the wrong things. I held him for a bit (and the fact that he let me told me everything I needed to know) and then went over to Tim's and had a meltdown.
I knew he had to go. It was time. But he's always hated the car, hated the vet's; I was stressing him enough just leaving him in the bathroom, though he wedged himself behind the toilet and seemed somewhat serene with that.
Tim, bless him, made all the arrangements. I wouldn't have been able to talk on the phone -- could barely talk in person. I stayed in the bathroom with Taltos and tried to think of a way to make it easier on him. I got a syringe and got a little water into him, which he seemed happy about. And I got out the bottle of valerian and rubbed a little on his nose.
That seemed to calm him down a lot. I got him curled up in a cat bed without him fighting it, and he relaxed once he was in it. He didn't cry in the car, didn't panic at the vet's.
All I'll say about that was they let him go easy, and I'm glad I thought of something to help with that. I can't bear to think if he'd been terrified.
Loiosh isn't letting me get too down. If I get too depressed he bites me on the nose ("I trained him; he bit me"). Chocolate is being extra-loving, Samson's being his normal hateful self but that's fine.
I hardly ever saw Taltos but the place still feels empty. I miss him.
Here's a much less Demon Cat picture:
Rest in peace, big guy. You don't have to be afraid any more. Wait for me by the Bridge if you want -- but don't feel you have to. I'll look for you there either way.
Taltos had been sort of slowly fading for a while -- getting skinnier at any rate, though as energetic as always in running to hide. He was always afraid, see, and I never managed to convince him he didn't have to be. I decided against taking him to the vet, because changes were it was just age, and adding the stress of vet visits and medication would likely negate any good the medications might have done.
I still don't know if it was the right decision, but it's the decision I made.
There have always been whole days when all I'd see of him was a pair of eyes under a table. He was always _afraid_, and I tried and tried and tried to teach him he didn't need to be, and I never managed it. So I mostly left him alone, except to check on him every once in a while.
A few days ago he was fine.
Yesterday he ran past me into the closet -- stumbling, almost dragging himself along, I went in after him immediately.
He still had the energy to scratch me up pretty good, but it was clear he wasn't okay. His legs weren't working right, his tongue was stuck partway out of his mouth and wouldn't go back in. Stroke, or possibly a brain tumor that finally got big enough to push on the wrong things. I held him for a bit (and the fact that he let me told me everything I needed to know) and then went over to Tim's and had a meltdown.
I knew he had to go. It was time. But he's always hated the car, hated the vet's; I was stressing him enough just leaving him in the bathroom, though he wedged himself behind the toilet and seemed somewhat serene with that.
Tim, bless him, made all the arrangements. I wouldn't have been able to talk on the phone -- could barely talk in person. I stayed in the bathroom with Taltos and tried to think of a way to make it easier on him. I got a syringe and got a little water into him, which he seemed happy about. And I got out the bottle of valerian and rubbed a little on his nose.
That seemed to calm him down a lot. I got him curled up in a cat bed without him fighting it, and he relaxed once he was in it. He didn't cry in the car, didn't panic at the vet's.
All I'll say about that was they let him go easy, and I'm glad I thought of something to help with that. I can't bear to think if he'd been terrified.
Loiosh isn't letting me get too down. If I get too depressed he bites me on the nose ("I trained him; he bit me"). Chocolate is being extra-loving, Samson's being his normal hateful self but that's fine.
I hardly ever saw Taltos but the place still feels empty. I miss him.
Here's a much less Demon Cat picture:
Rest in peace, big guy. You don't have to be afraid any more. Wait for me by the Bridge if you want -- but don't feel you have to. I'll look for you there either way.
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no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-14 06:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-14 06:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 06:30 pm (UTC)I am sorry.. don't worry about calling back.. If you need to, however, come on over for Rufus purrings, and Inga-dog lickin's.
Hugzor
Dwen
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 06:35 pm (UTC)Not a good week for teh kittehs...
Date: 2008-08-13 07:04 pm (UTC)Sorry to hear about your big guy. :-(
Re: Not a good week for teh kittehs...
Date: 2008-08-13 07:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 10:33 pm (UTC)May this little thought be of some help for you --
no subject
Date: 2008-08-22 01:52 am (UTC)because he hated having his feet or mouth handles, i didnt notice he had teeth issues until it was almost too late........ he recovered form the surgery and we had a few more years with him..
but
honey, you did good not subjecting Taltos to a lot..... when the end came fro Camber we spent a lot fo time at the vets "testing" and every time i tried to point out how scared he was and how old he was i got told "but it might let him have a few years more"
i regret ever letting them talk me into it.
hugs
and yeah, even with a lot fo pets in the house, its emptier minus one.....