(no subject)
Jun. 10th, 2006 03:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbanamazonZazie’s gone.
He’d started vomiting quite a bit four days ago. We thought it was possibly something he’d eaten, a bit of one of Mom’s ferns, or one of the iris flowers she’d brought in from the garden. Or maybe we were overfeeding him… Mya used to have the same problems every now and then. Mac did, too. So we tried backing down on his food for a day or two, let him get a bug out of his system if need be.
Two nights ago, when I came home from work, I found him gaunt and listless. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t drank anything, and was without energy. He wouldn’t so much as chase one of his toys. I saw him use his litterbox and then vomit up the contents of an empty stomach. He slept on my bed without moving all night, and I had a dream that I saw a cat just like him struck and dead on the side of the road as I drove by.
I booked a vet appointment yesterday morning. He didn’t fight going into his carrier, hardly made a sound the whole drive there… just staring at me and the world outside, awake but too quiet.
The vet wanted to keep him overnight for some x-rays, some bloodwork. Zazie squirmed a little, but not as much as he usually would. I petted him one last time as the nurse weighed him, and then left.
The x-rays showed that there was some kind of thickening in his stomach, but no foreign bodies. I even thought that he might have finally eaten one of those q-tips that he likes stealing and playing with, or something a little poisonous. We never let Zazie outside, or in the garage, or in the basement. The vet said he would put him on antibiotics and anti-inflammatories and see if that took any swelling down, as well as rehydrate him on an IV.
I went to work. I came home. I woke up early this morning. Jeff’s out of town for a basketball tourney with some friends. Mom and dad left very early to go on a weekend retreat with some family friends. I was going to stay.
The vet called at about ten, saying that he’d given Zazie his meds and wanted to know if I could pick him up today, as he still wasn’t eating. Possibly the stress of being in a strange place for the first time. I wanted to take him home. I wanted to comfort him and reassure him and let him know that I was still here, so I said yes.
Not two minutes later, the vet called again and said that Zazie had just been sick again in his kennel and he’d now rather keep him a little longer. He would try force-feeding him a little, something high-calorie to give him some energy to fight any infections.
He called again just before noon. Zazie had gone into respiratory distress as they tried to feed him, and the vet couldn’t revive him. He died.
Six months old, white with orange patches and a little orange half-moustache on his nose. He looked like a maneki neko, a good luck cat.
And now I’m alone in this house, with pizza and ice cream and loud, angry, violent movies as I try to stop telling myself that he was scared and hurting and I left him in that strange place and didn’t come back in time to take him home and I keep listening for that bell we put on his collar so that we wouldn’t step on him because he started off so small.
I know.
I know.
Nothing ever makes it easier, or more numb, or more faraway. It’s always right there and it swings back and forth like a tide to make me cry and make my head hurt all over again. Saying that there was nothing I could do doesn’t make it better. Saying that it happened fast, that I did what I should have done, doesn’t make it better. Can’t bring him back, I know.
Pets are family, and I had Zazie since he was small enough to hold in one hand.
He’d started vomiting quite a bit four days ago. We thought it was possibly something he’d eaten, a bit of one of Mom’s ferns, or one of the iris flowers she’d brought in from the garden. Or maybe we were overfeeding him… Mya used to have the same problems every now and then. Mac did, too. So we tried backing down on his food for a day or two, let him get a bug out of his system if need be.
Two nights ago, when I came home from work, I found him gaunt and listless. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t drank anything, and was without energy. He wouldn’t so much as chase one of his toys. I saw him use his litterbox and then vomit up the contents of an empty stomach. He slept on my bed without moving all night, and I had a dream that I saw a cat just like him struck and dead on the side of the road as I drove by.
I booked a vet appointment yesterday morning. He didn’t fight going into his carrier, hardly made a sound the whole drive there… just staring at me and the world outside, awake but too quiet.
The vet wanted to keep him overnight for some x-rays, some bloodwork. Zazie squirmed a little, but not as much as he usually would. I petted him one last time as the nurse weighed him, and then left.
The x-rays showed that there was some kind of thickening in his stomach, but no foreign bodies. I even thought that he might have finally eaten one of those q-tips that he likes stealing and playing with, or something a little poisonous. We never let Zazie outside, or in the garage, or in the basement. The vet said he would put him on antibiotics and anti-inflammatories and see if that took any swelling down, as well as rehydrate him on an IV.
I went to work. I came home. I woke up early this morning. Jeff’s out of town for a basketball tourney with some friends. Mom and dad left very early to go on a weekend retreat with some family friends. I was going to stay.
The vet called at about ten, saying that he’d given Zazie his meds and wanted to know if I could pick him up today, as he still wasn’t eating. Possibly the stress of being in a strange place for the first time. I wanted to take him home. I wanted to comfort him and reassure him and let him know that I was still here, so I said yes.
Not two minutes later, the vet called again and said that Zazie had just been sick again in his kennel and he’d now rather keep him a little longer. He would try force-feeding him a little, something high-calorie to give him some energy to fight any infections.
He called again just before noon. Zazie had gone into respiratory distress as they tried to feed him, and the vet couldn’t revive him. He died.
Six months old, white with orange patches and a little orange half-moustache on his nose. He looked like a maneki neko, a good luck cat.
And now I’m alone in this house, with pizza and ice cream and loud, angry, violent movies as I try to stop telling myself that he was scared and hurting and I left him in that strange place and didn’t come back in time to take him home and I keep listening for that bell we put on his collar so that we wouldn’t step on him because he started off so small.
I know.
I know.
Nothing ever makes it easier, or more numb, or more faraway. It’s always right there and it swings back and forth like a tide to make me cry and make my head hurt all over again. Saying that there was nothing I could do doesn’t make it better. Saying that it happened fast, that I did what I should have done, doesn’t make it better. Can’t bring him back, I know.
Pets are family, and I had Zazie since he was small enough to hold in one hand.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-11 05:05 am (UTC)Nothing I could say could possibly make this feel better. Losing a pet like Zazie feels like a knife in your heart.
Cats scare me, you know. They seem so indestructable, so tough...but when they get sick, they go downhill so quickly. And the vets so rarely ever have the answers. We fought Madison's symptoms for *years* and no one really knew what the heck we were dealing with. It's only now at the end that we finally know why he's so sick.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Kouryou. And I know it's so much harder for you because he died at the vet's office. But Kouryou, you took him there to try to get him help. And as sick as he was, it made sense that you'd have to leave Zazie there. I just think he was so sick that nothing could save him. Sometimes nothing we do is enough.
Kouryou, you did everything you possibly could for Zazie. And losing him is so crushing. You gave him a happy, wonderful life while he was with you. And you did the best you could to save him when he was dying. He loved you for good reason, Kouryou.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-11 06:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-06-13 05:26 am (UTC)