For once, mostly having fun by riding and working the girls. My main concern has been that Isis has been in the middle of an insulin resistance episode. We have been careful about her diet, so the next item was to up her exercise. All of the girls are getting worked more. I’ve mostly focused on Isis and Kasane because they are both overweight.

Stella is also having trouble with her weight. She isn’t eating enough and might be having trouble with her teeth. She usually sits with me, so I have to bring her food to where ever we are sitting. Spoiled little girl.

Kiesha has also had thyroid problems. Her last test was within the upper range of normal (0.5 – 4). Much better than the original test result of 14. Kiesha is getting 1.5 pills of the thyroid meds every day and seems to be tolerating it much better.

Overall, the animals are all doing better. Fiction writing and attending a great (inspiring!) con, ReConstruction (NASFiC 10). Lots of sessions for writing, met quite a few writers, and had a great time.

Stella has been back on track with her fluids for the last three weeks. After the day when she lost four ounces, I went to the pet store and tried some kitten food. Higher fat, lower protein: seemed like a reasonable choice if Stella would eat it.

And eat it she did. Like it was going out of style. Two weeks ago, I was absolutely delighted with her because at her weigh-in before getting fluids she had gained back 2.5 ounces. Go kitten! I did the happy dance.

Until her last fluids. She had lost an ounce. Okay, that might not sound like much but that’s a lot for a kitty Stella’s size (4 pounds, 6 ounces).

She isn’t eating the dry food as much and she isn’t interested much in the wet food. She’ll pick up a kibble of the dry and then drop it. Next time I’m in the clinic, I’m going to ask the vet to check Stella’s teeth. If something is going on with her mouth, that would explain why she has been having trouble (as if her age wouldn’t be enough of a reason).

Stella had her regular appointment for fluids this morning. She is still down 4 ounces from three weeks ago. She now weighs 4 pounds, 4 ounces. I don’t know if there is anything I can do to help keep weight on her. She’s lost a lot of muscle in her hips. It’s hard for her to coordinate things. She still jumps on my shoulder while I’m sitting, so some things are still normal.

I’m supposed to go to Mom’s this weekend. I don’t know if I can take Stella with me because of the stress of travel and staying in a house with dogs (even if the dogs are locked out of the bedroom). Stella usually eats if I’m sitting with her. When she stays at the vet’s, she doesn’t eat much (if at all). When she is at home by herself, she doesn’t eat much even when my sister checks on Stella daily. The vet is supposed to call me back and let me know what she thinks.

Taking Kiesha with me to Mom’s would be …interesting. Two weeks ago, Kiesha was diagnosed with hyperthryoid. (Under 4 is normal, Kiesha was at 14.) She has to have pills twice per day. She is not happy about it, but she’s dealing with it reasonably well. Kiesha has other stress-induced problems that I don’t really want to have come up again. Kiesha probably could be put into the kennel for the weekend.

Isis is also in the middle of an IR episode. :( She has to be worked regularly. The IR flared up last week while I was at the con. Kasane is El Blimpo from having two weeks off between extreme heat and when I attended ReConstruction.

Yeah, I’m fretting. I don’t normally have two horses and two cats all with issues. Normally it’s just Isis or Stella.

Stella’s eyes are changing. Today her eyes are not very responsive to the light. When she opens them, the pupils stay wide and are slow to adjust to the light. The vet warned me on Friday that Stella might end up with detached retinas from the hypertension (high blood pressure).

Basette ended up with detached retinas as a side effect of her diabetes. The night she lost her vision, she wandered in to my office and sat by my feel like she usually did. The light caught her eyes wrong: her pupils looked like saucers filled with a murky grey-black fog. She could still follow my fingers and discern shapes.

Picture taken the night Basette went blind.

That night was the first night Basette was confined to her kitchen containment area with her food, litter, and bed all neatly arranged. Basette adapted to being blind — but she still had her hearing. (Basette only lived a few weeks after she went blind.)

Basette's self-contained world in the kitchen after she went blind.

Stella is a courageous little cat. We have both adapted to her deafness: I’m careful to tap the floor or the bed if she is asleep so I don’t startle her. How do you deal with a kitty is both blind and deaf? She’ll have to be confined (she will absolutely hate that) but it will be much safer for her. We’ll deal with that situation if we come to it.

Some mornings she is so quiet and still that I watch her chest just to make sure she is breathing. She looks so tiny and pitiful. She isn’t in pain. She still plays and goes after my hand if I don’t play with her enough. Her rear end is wobbly pretty consistently now. It doesn’t stop her from jumping up on the desk to be with me. I have taken to setting her on the floor or picking her up so she doesn’t have to jump around.

Stella is currently asleep on the desk. Her coat is in rough shape. I should give her a bath. (She will hate me.)

Stella and Kiesha on my desk.

I feel guilty for not forcing the high blood pressure meds down her throat. She was miserable from me trying (and 75% of the time failing) to force the meds. Instead of curling up with me every night she ran from me. We tried for three months to get her to take the pills. It seemed better to let her go without them. It came down to a quality of life. I chose to let her be happier… but at what expense?

She is dreaming now. Her little legs are twitching. This little cat has been with me for more than half of my life.

Kiesha, on the other hand, seems to be absolutely fine. No puking (except hairballs) and she is eating well. Like a vacuum. She purrs whenever I say her name and greets me at the front door most days. Not today though, which made me go look for her when I got home. She is curled up on my lap right now with her head tucked into my elbow while I type.

This last vet visit made me realize just how much Stella has gone downhill in the past few months. It’s been hard on her: moving, losing Ambush, and her kidney issue worsening. Instead of looking like a kitty who is half of her age, she looks like she is her age now. The vet said that she looks like she is 17. Poor little kitten. She’ll let me know when it’s her time. I hope we have more months together of her being in good health.

Stella is 21 this month. She is the oldest cat I’ve ever had. She has been very healthy and spry for the most part.

Since the move to the new apartment, she has been losing weight and not looking as good. She is looking more her age instead of being so kittenish. (She did play with her tail last week in the bathtub. First time she had done that in a while and the first time in the new place.)

She still seems to be losing weight and this week she has started sleeping away from me. She’s hiding in dark corners — same thing Ambush did when he started going down hill. (In fact, the vet said it can be a signal that something is really not right.)

I have been encouraging her to eat by following her around with food bowls. She walked up to me just a few seconds and I offered her the food bowl. She ate a few licks and then groomed herself. She did stay on my lap for a few minutes to be petted. Then she went back to laying down under my old desk on the other side of the room. She hasn’t been wanting to sit on my lap much either.

Kiesha has been rather annoyed with me because I’ve been feeding Stella and keeping Kiesha out of the food.

Stella just came up and meowed and asked for food. Gave her a little and then she walked off.

I am supposed to go to Mom’s this weekend but I’m a little worried about Stella. I’ll only be gone from Saturday morning through Sunday afternoon, so just over 24 hours. Stella has a vet appointment in about 30 minutes. I’ll update with what we find out.

Update: Stella’s blood work came back at a reasonable level. Her kidney numbers were only slightly higher than the tests from 8 months ago. She isn’t anemic, either. The urinalysis showed that she has a UTI. She was given a shot of antibioitcs and that should take care of her.

I picked up Ambush’s ashes today: a little white box in a purple velvet bag that says “Until we meet again at the rainbow bridge.” My poor little buddy.

I held it together until the person at the clinic handed me the bag with Ambush’s ashes. I’ve cried almost every time I’ve seen something that reminds me of Ambush. Places where he used to sleep. Clothes coming out of the dryer still covered in his hair. His favorite toys scattered around the house. His box of ashes was small: tiny compared to his once 18-pound marshmallow form. The tininess of the box seemed symbolic of how much weight he had lost (9 pounds) and how, in the space of a few weeks, he had become a shell of his former self.

After you lose a pet, you catch glimpses of them in places where they used to sleep, where they used to eat, where you used to trip over them. I’ve caught glimpses of Ambush’s shadow in the kitchen sleeping on his back and on the bed in the morning. Stella and Kiesha are still wandering around at night meowing, but not as much. They seem to be adapting.

A friend asked me if I had brought Ambush’s body home to show the other kitties so they would understand that he had passed. No, I had not. It was everything I could do to stay with him as he was euthanized. I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing his body home to an apartment and then taking his body back. It was so hard to make the decision to put him down and spend those last moments with him. It’s been almost two weeks since he died and I can only just now look at his pictures without crying. (Writing this has me in tears.)

His ashes are up on the cabinet so he can watch everything going on. He’s there with Basette’s ashes. My poor two kitties who died from diabetes. (This blog was started in part to tell Basette’s and Isis’ stories.)

So Ambush is home and will stay with me in his little bag until I buy a permanent home, some place with a garden worthy of my two lost kitties.

Stella is in my lap meowing at me and pushing her face against my fingers as I try to type. There is a lightning storm outside: steady, constant rain punctuated by bursts of thunder. Fitting. Ambush would have been sleeping under my desk during a lightning storm. He never did like the noise.

It’s only been a few days since Ambush past and the kitties seem to be adjusting. Kiesha periodically walks around the house yowling. When she’s called, she meows lightly and trots in for pettings. Stella has also yowled a little, but, being mostly deaf, she doesn’t hear it when I call her. Instead I find her, and she does her little “purr-ip” and trots up to me.

After Saturday, the kitties started doing something odd: they wouldn’t eat the food they shared with Ambush. Even fresh Innova Evo from the bag was untouched. The wet food flavor the kitties have eaten for the past 8 months stays in the bowl all day. Stella and Kiesha are eating the new salmon flavor Innova Evo samples I brought home. They ate all of the different flavors of wet cat food I had for Stella. But none of the flavors they ate when Ambush was here.

Kitty food selection for Stella and Kiesha, March 2010

All of the kitty beds are washed. Both kitties have stood on the beds, sniffed them, and curled up in other locations.

The odd thing is that Stella has been eating more wet food so she looks like she has gained weight. Her fur looks a little rough, so she’ll go back for fluids this week.

They both seem to be adapting to one less kitty in the house. She and Kiesha have been playing every night: galloping through the apartment like a miniature herd of elephants.

One of the things I loved about Ambush were his antics. He had to explore every where: not to necessarily get out but to just see what was on the other side.

In August 2009, Ambush decided that he was going to go on a walkabout. I had had dinner with a friend, got home kinda late, and took a shower before going to bed. It must have been about 1:00 AM or so. Just as I was about to get into bed, none of the kitties were in my room. Most nights, as soon as I walk into the bedroom the kitties are on the bed ready to cuddle. I could hear the cricket noises from outside even though all of the windows were closed.

I walked into the living room and found the front door open! Yikes! As I moved towards the front door, I checked each room. I’ve watched too many B movies to just open the door or close it without checking. My purse and computer equipment were still here. All of the kitties were out on the landing, lead by Stella (the fearless one) who was standing on the stairs. Ambush and Kiesha weren’t far away from the door. They all looked very guilty and came in as soon as they saw me.

I checked the apartment for intruders again and locked the door. I must not have closed it completely and Ambush opened it while I was in the shower. Talk about an adrenaline rush. I was up for another hour and half after that watching TV until my nerves calmed down.

It’s funny now, imagining him prying open the door and then Stella marching out like she owned everything. He always wanted to see what was out there. Seeing was usually enough. He would watch the snow fall on the porch but wouldn’t venture out into it.

He had one experience with snow. He was maybe three or four and we had the first snow with a few inches. He sat next to the glass sliding doors watching the snow flakes come down. He looked rather miffed when the door was opened and the cold air hit him. He was gently picked up and plopped in the middle of the snow. His tail puffed completely out and he shot back inside, shaking his paws while running full tilt.

He used to get on my dresser and pull out all of the hair bands so he could chase them around the house. When he was a kitten he chased balls made out of crumpled aluminum foil. Toss it down the hall, and he would carry it back in his mouth. As he got older, he only carried about half way back, and then something else would grab his attention. He would drop the ball and trot off after something else.

Probably the funniest thing about him was that he loved to have his belly rubbed. Push him lightly on his back and he would flop onto the ground. Rub his belly and scratch between his front paws and he would kneed the air with his paws. (He also let me clip his claws when he was on his back like that.)

Ambush’s diabetes has gone into ketosis (very bad stuff for a diabetic). His glucose level was over 700 (off of the scale). It impacted how his kidneys function. Even if aggressive treatment was started, there was no telling if he would survive and what quality of life he might have. Best case scenario would have put him with a lot of trips to the vet to be constantly monitoring his blood glucose levels. I just couldn’t put him through it.

So here is to Ambush, the White Wonder Cat. My constant companion for 16 years. He will be fondly remembered and sorely missed. I sorted through my photos and found a few of him.

This is one of the last pictures of Ambush I took of Ambush on Saturday. He sat on my lap when I said good bye and purred. Soft, gentle purr, not his full-throated hear-him-from-the-next-room rumble like he did at home. He was ready to go.

Ambush, last day. Purring.

This was Bush a few years ago, in his favorite place to hide: the hamper. He was exactly as bit as the opening for it so he could watch everyone else. Notice the closet door is open. Ambush was notorious for opening any door that was closed, particularly bifold closet doors. He knew how to scratch in the middle of the door and then push his nose in to the opening at the edge of the door. He opened cabinets, doors with door knobs. Anything that was hidden he wanted to explore.

Ambush

Ambush had a plastic fetish. I came home one evening and found him surrounded by the plastic bags he had pulled out. (Click the thumbnail for a larger image.)
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Ambush was part dog, really. He would sleep on his back and periodically played fetch. His favourite thing was to chase rubber bands or hair doobies. He was self entertaining: he would hold one end of the rubber band in one paw, grasp the other end in his mouth, shoot it, and chase it. Hours of fun for the whole family.
ambush.jpg

I will write more about his escapades later, when I’ve stopped crying.

Ambush is going to the emergency vet clinic. He isn’t doing well at all this morning. He isn’t keeping food down and he just doesn’t look right. Poor guy has thrown up three times.

I’ll post again when I know more.

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