Yesterday we spent several hours at the veterinary hospital with our cat of 18 years, Zoe. In a week’s time she went from being an older but still happy and healthy kitty, to one where she is no longer eating, and now drinking.
Our regular vet was not on duty, but the vet we had was excellent—not making any assumptions, not pushing any tests. Because of Zoe’s age, most aggressive forms of treatment are not an option, but we still decided on x-rays and blood work, as well as a urine test, to see if we could find what’s happening, and if what she had was treatable.
Zoe has fluid surrounding her lungs. What caused it could show up in the blood tests, or we could do a biopsy of the fluid. The latter is very unpleasant, so that’s not an option we’re most likely going to pursue. We were going to see what the blood work shows, but little girl is degrading so quickly that our choice has now been limited to one, though it’s not a choice I’m having an easy time with.
While we waited the test results, the vet injected water subcutaneously to help with hydration, and we took Zoe home. The vet also gave her a b12 shot, and an antibiotic, just in case there’s an infection somewhere. I tried to tempt her with her favorite poached salmon, but she wasn’t interested. She had a couple of licks of chicken baby food from my finger, but now won’t eat anything else. She won’t drink water, either.
It’s 3 in the morning. I just went downstairs, where my roommate is sleeping in his chair, Zoe on his lap, covered with a blanket. She greeted me weakly, but can’t get up. I’ll let them both sleep until morning, and then do what I need to do. Many of you who have known me all the many years I’ve had a weblog of some form or another, also know Zoe. I thought you might want to know.