I’ll be honest: Yesterday (Monday) was a very scary day. We thought our sweetheart kitty Zoë might leave us; I was on a plane headed for home (back to Ontario after 5 days in Vancouver) and so was out of touch for hours. Meanwhile, M was busy talking to doctors and overseeing Zoë’s care from home, being a complete hero.
Zoë is home now as of 6 pm Monday; and what’s more, she’s very much still with us, hungry as a horse, pushing her head into our hands to demand the proper amount of cat worship. She’s also weak, frail, her kidneys have gone south very quickly, she’s wobbly on her feet due to a potassium deficiency, and so on. The good news is that she’s stable at this point; even so, M and I are taking turns keeping a close eye on our still very sick girl.
We have to give her sub-Q fluids every day for the rest of her life; the countertop is covered with medicines, instructions, medication spreadsheets (carefully updated by Hero to Cats, Melody), and we are keeping careful notes in the daily kitty journal we have kept for three years running on all 5 cats (so we know who barfed up what when and other such gripping data).
Why, yes, we both did grow up with physicians and nurses in the family, how did you know?
Despite everything: We’re so, so very grateful The Queen of Purrs Reigneth from her purple poof once more, even if her reign might possibly end sooner than we had hoped. 🐈👑🙏🏼
The good news is that since M brought her home, she‘s eaten several small meals with gusto (!!! in total: an entire can of wet food in twelve hours!), had several lusty drinks from her fave flowered bowl, and when I got home at 1 AM, promptly pushed her way over to my leg, made a Grade A+ Snuggle Attempt, and PURRED.
She’s alert, bright-eyed, following me around and bossing me around as usual by meowing the songs of her people, begging for pets and scritches…
Yep. And this is the cat one vet advised us to consider euthanizing 24 hours ago.
(Uhhh…Yeah. Nope. Thanks for playing. Not.)
She’s definitely quite sick; the next week or so could be very difficult; we know she’s not out of the woods yet. One vet thinks she might last a few days to a couple of weeks; another a few weeks to a year. … Zoë says she’s happy right where she is, thank you very much; it ain’t over until she says it’s over. 🐾🐾❤️
She’s on her fave purple fuzzy blanket. We have the heating pad on low; she’s resting, she is walking better, and clearly wants to be part of the party here, observing her Queendom from her heated throne, meowing out orders now and then as she purrs and makes batches of kitty biscuits when we stop and gently rub her belly.
We’re still scared for what the immediate future might hold; that’s part of being a parent or guardian of any frail being. However, at this moment in time, she seems to be responding well enough to allow us a measure of cautious optimism. She is so attached to her moms that just being home appears to be the best medicine we can offer right now.
It helps that this little 9-lb bundle of tortie love has a major case of Diva and Catitude. 👑🕶🐾🐾💐✨💖
A day, a week, a month, a year? Who knows? One day at a time, as is true for so much of this wonderful, beautiful, fragile thing called Life.
Zoë sends you purrs and soft snuggles. M and I send love and gratitude for all the kindnesses and prayers and thoughts and support sent by all you amazing friends and family.
P.S. I have wonderful stories to tell you about my trip to Vancouver. Zoë says she will supervise my work personally to ensure I post about all that other good stuff (including yarn from a gorgeous yarn shop in Vancouver!) in a timely manner.
“All on good time, my pretties, all in good time…”
P.S. #2: Zoë politely but firmly reminds her U.S. subjects to vote as if your lives depend upon it. Because they pretty much do depend on it, more now than ever. Vote your conscience. Vote for Now, and, more importantly, vote for the seven generations yet to come.
All our love, and best brightest hopes in the darkness.
—Sandi, Melody, Zoë, Dusty, Tim, Ben, and Tessa