His valiant attempt began in a feral state. His warrior mom, a feral cat, seemed to have lured a dog away from the nest she'd made for her kittens. She met her demise doing so, but a kindly human found the precious babies and took them in. With the help of friends, she nursed the kittens to health. Then, tragically, she too lost a battle and passed away due to a brain hemorrhage. The kittens and her personal cats now needed yet another home. I wanted to help but truly felt it wasn't right as I have a cat that doesn't enjoy the company of others. Yet eventually this sweet baby found his way to us and there he stayed.
His first vet visit was to rid him of fleas and ear mites and we did that successfully. Yet with each subsequent visit, there was more. Never weighing more than 3 pounds, a heart murmur, infection, anorexia, dehydration. We cured him of all but the former and though the vet tried so valiantly to save him - even performing free examinations and acupuncture and an angel fund came to his rescue financially for the echocardiogram - she always warned, with tears in her eyes, that it might be FIP. That evil freaking disease - Feline Infectious Peritonitis - which is neither infectious nor peritonitis - took my Albert in a matter of days. He showed signs of improvement and even gained a little weight after an acupuncture session, but the next week he lost all the weight he'd gained and then some. His little wobbly gait got so intense that he did more correcting than walking. By the time I took him in for his next acupuncture, he'd lost half a pound and could barely walk. His little heart was beating so irregularly and so fast and because I share that with him - the heart arrhythmia - I knew all too well that all it was going to take was one bad beat.
Dr. Rebecca began to cry. "Do I need to tell you today is the day?"
I'm notoriously incapable of letting go. I put a 14 year old dog through chemotherapy and didn't put down a pet rat with a tumor until it was so large she could only move backwards. I made Logan endure probably far more than he should have so that he would just go 'naturally' instead of it being on my hands. I had a miscarriage before Dia and though the doctors begged me to have a D & C, I wouldn't give up. In the end, I almost lost me from the hemorrhaging, but I just couldn't give up hope. And, here, I held this tiny, beautiful kitten and couldn't save him.
"Yes" I said.
"Today is the day" she said, sobbing.
And so it was on Valentine's Day that I held my sweet little guy and said goodbye. He went peacefully and I held him the whole time, but it broke my heart so many times over.
There was one moment, though. Yesterday morning. And I don't believe in these things, so I'm sure it was a dream, but...
I was awakened by the sensation that he'd jumped up on the bed as he did every morning. He weighed so little that you only ever felt one paw when he landed. I felt that paw on my leg and then felt the sensation of another paw landing as he would to walk across. I wanted to open my eyes, but I was afraid - of course he wouldn't be there - and then, before I did, I heard "What's up, Mom?" It was so weird and so vivid. His human voice was like a Disney character - like Oliver or one of the kittens from Aristocats. I knew I was dreaming but I opened my eyes and looked down at my feet. There were two, tiny indentations exactly where I'd felt the paws land. In fairness, I have a down comforter and it could have been anything that might have made those indentations, but it did give me a moment of relief. Maybe he's fine now. Maybe he's happy and healthy.
But right now, I'm still so sad. I know it will pass and I will be left only with the joy that came from giving everything I could to this precious gift.
Albert - I will always love you.
KEC
Amen. Sigh...
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