I Will Ramble Since I Don't Know What To Say

Our cat Velvet developed IBD in January. We treated him for it and was successful in controlling the symptoms. A week ago Velvet started gaining fluid in his abdomen. Considering his age we did not want to do a biopsy of his intestines. The vet drew off 150 cc of fluid. We started him on prednisolone and a diuretic but they did not affect the condition. The vet said it was almost definitely the diffuse form of intestinal lymphoma. There is no cure but you can sometimes give them a few added months by giving chemotherapy in the form of I.V. solutions of 2 or 3 compounds along with prednisone or prednisolone. Over the weekend he regained the abdominal fluid. I researched drugs that he could take at home instead of taking him 60 miles to Jacksonville.

It was obvious last night that Velvet's condition was rapidly deteriorating and was at the point that any additional drugs would not help. He was still eating but he was having difficulty with finding a position that would allow him to breathe easily. He was lying down as much as possible and his coat was rough. I spent most of last night with Velvet and could see him physically failing. We did not want Velvet to get to the point where he was in extreme distress and pain so we made the decision to take him to the vet this morning to be euthanized. I gave him some pain medication so he could rest a little better. I spent a lot of time with Velvet this morning and you could see in his eyes that he wanted this to end. We fed him his favorite food and he stretched out afterwards. After a lot more petting and talking to him I picked up his almost limp body and gently placed him on a towel in the carrier. He was about a day away from struggling for breath and in fact the slight stress of the trip to the vet caused him to have labored breathing. His blood pressure was so low that even their expert vet tech had some difficulty with finding a vein. She was very good with him, though, and did not hurt him before finally locating a leg vein.

The wife and I both held ourselves together when he came back in. We petted on him and talked to him awhile. The vet was excellent with Velvet, stroking and speaking soothingly to him. I held him in my lap and told him he was going to Rainbow Bridge where he would see Tommy, Sir Francis, Casper, and all of our other furkids who have passed on. Though not very responsive Velvet did purr a little and stretched his chin out when I stroked it. I kept on talking soothingly to him as the vet injected the phenobarbitol solution into his vein. It took a little longer than usual before he became unconscious because of the low blood pressure but we kept him peaceful and he did not struggle. Velvet slipped into sleep and about 20-30 seconds later his heart stopped. He had a few involuntary movements but at that point he was already gone. We petted him a little bit more and the vet confirmed with a stethoscope that Velvet was dead. I broke down and cried then, knowing that Velvet wasn't there to be upset about it. We took his body home and buried Velvet in a sunny spot in the back yard. He always loved to sun himself in the window so this was an appropriate spot for his final resting place.

We adopted Velvet and his son from a local rescue group about 6 years ago. Velvet was always a daddy's boy, lying on my chair arm for petting. When I rubbed him he had the loudest, most contented purr I had ever heard. Velvet was very sweet and he always got along with even the more difficult cats here. He had an unreserved love for me. He was leery of Karen though in his later years he came to enjoy her holding him in her arms and petting him. He was a very special angel to us and now he is an angel at Rainbow Bridge. We miss Velvet terribly.

Here are two photos. The first one shows Velvet on the right and his son Beau on the left. It was taken about 2 years ago. The second photo is Velvet a day before he was euthanized. This is one of the last photos ever taken of him. He is in the sun near a window and is obviously not well. He still seemed to enjoy the sunshine. The bald patch is from an ultrasound.

I know that we did the best we could for Velvet. I wished we could have given him more time but his cancer was so aggressive that this was not possible. I did not want to do what some people with terminally ill animals do and support them with feeding tubes, repeated drainings of his abdomen, and other approaches that would keep him alive just so we could selfishly spend another week or two with Velvet. He would have been in severe pain and would have probably gone into shock from the drainings. He was already in some discomfort and I did not want to wait until it became intolerable for him since there was no cure. The pain shot did seem to help a little and though his quality of life the past couple of days was not great it was good enough to allow us to say a proper goodbye. Now Velvet is free of pain and suffering, free of that horrible cancer that tried to steal his joy. The cancer failed except perhaps during the last day. I think we took him in at the right time, before he totally crashed medically.

Velvet will always be my special "big boy". I will always have a hole in my heart when he left us too soon. He was kind, sweet, intelligent, and obviously appreciative of us adopting him and his son. When it was time I could see in his face that on some level Velvet knew we were trying to help him not to suffer more. I will see you at the Bridge some day, big guy, and it will be a joyful reunion. Until then I may shed some tears for you but I will always remember the good times we shared. Head pats and chinny chompers for you, sweet Velvet.