Goodbye to a Friend

Like most cats, he had his eccentricities. His favorite trick was to wait until I was sitting down at the computer. He would then jump up on the desk and stand right in front of the monitor, looking at me with his huge green eyes and clearly demanding to be petted. If I ignored him and simply craned my neck to get a view of the screen, he would then place his paws on my shoulders and begin to climb on my chest. My computer chair tilts back and as he climbed on with his considerable bulk, I would have to lean farther and farther back. Eventually, my arms would be fully extended to reach the keyboard and I would be trying to view the monitor from almost a 45 degree angle. He would then lie down and rest his head on my shoulder. He would slide down my chest and then reposition himself over and over until he or I tired of the game. This is the only time he ever tried to sit on my lap.

At night, he would wait until I was in bed and then jump up for a tickle under the chin. I would pet him for a few minutes and he would reward me with a nose-to-nose "kiss" and then lick the tip of my nose before curling up for bedtime himself.

About three weeks ago, his appetite began to decline. He would not eat and would only come down to the first floor to use the litter box. I wasn't too worried as he was still fairly frisky and affectionate. Finally, a week ago, he began to withdraw and started hiding under the bed. When I finally got a good look at him a couple of days ago, he appeared haggard and ill. Now I was really worried and set up an appointment with the vet.

I thought the vet would give him a shot or some medicine and I would soon have my friend back. As the vet examined him, she became increasingly worried at his condition. She began pointing out things that, as a layperson, I had been completely ignorant of. I was horrified as I began to realize Ralph's true condition. She noted that he had lost a lot of weight rapidly. This cat was not a little sick, he was desperately ill and I had not even realized it.

The decision to put Ralph to sleep was one of the saddest I have ever made in my life. I sat down with the doctor to discuss treatment. Ralph's liver had almost completely ceased to function properly...always a dangerous condition but especially with a cat. She pegged his chances of recovery at 20%, probably less and treatment would likely run in the thousands of dollars....dollars I simply do not have. I reluctantly asked about euthanasia, got the facts and made the awful decision.

I asked the doctor what I could have done. Instead of telling me what a complete idiot I was or abusing me for not bringing Ralph in sooner, she gently consoled me and told me that was no way to tell why he became sick. The stress of moving to a new home, a change in diet, liver cancer, any number of things could have led to his decline. She told me that while the rapid weight loss had probably contributed to the illness, there was no way to be sure if it was the cause or a symptom.

Saying goodbye to Ralph was horrible. I looked into his big eyes, now filled with fear, pain and confusion. As I was scratching his ears for the last time, he hid his face under his forepaw, obviously in great despair. Overcome, I began to walk away from the table. However, when I glanced back, he was staring at me in sheer terror. I knew then that I couldn't leave him until it was completely done. As much as it hurt, despite my guilt and pain, I could not leave him to die in the hands of complete strangers on a cold metal table. As I walked back, he visibly relaxed and even extended his neck so that I could scratch him under the chin. I bent my head down and he gave me one last nose kiss.

The doctor inserted the needle. As I cradled his head, I could feel his muscles relaxing. He was gone before the syringe was empty.

I paid the bill, got my cat carrier and drove away. As soon as the animal hospital was out of sight, I burst into great racking sobs, something I can't recall doing for over 20 years and something that a grown man is not supposed to do. As much as anything else, the shock of how fast the whole thing had transpired hit me. Two hours earlier, I had expected to get my cat some medicine and be home in time for lunch. Now, I was going home for lunch but without Ralph.

"It's just a cat," I told myself. But it was more than that. More than just the loss of a dear friend. A truly gentle, trusting animal had become ill under my care and I had done nothing until it was far too late. Now he is gone and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I have had a painful crash course in cat care. Simply providing fresh food and water and a clean litterbox is not enough. Maybe some of the things that I learned can help others who might run into the same situation.

Some things to keep in mind:

• Cats instinctively try not to show pain. By the time, they show symptoms of an illness, they may be terribly ill. Because the cannot tap you on the chest and describe what they are feeling, be on the lookout for signs of illness. These can include refusing to eat or drink, not using the litter box, withdrawing from their normal routine, not running away from things that normally bother them or not coming to things they enjoy and hiding under a couch or bed for an extended period of time.

• Cats get jaundiced just like humans. Check inside your cats ears and the whites of the eyes. If there is a yellowish color, get them to a vet IMMEDIATELY. It could indicate liver failure which can quickly become fatal.

• Ditto for extreme weight loss. Cat's livers can not process the fatty breakdown very well. If your cat is obese, do not put it on a diet except under a vet's care. The weight loss must be controlled at a safe pace.

• Cats can be extremely finicky about food, to the point of starving themselves if they don't like what's offered. If you adopt an older cat from a shelter, ask extensively about his diet. What did he eat in the shelter? What did he eat at his prior home? Was he finicky about food? If the shelter will release it, ask for the phone number of the prior owner (if known) so that you can ask them directly. Otherwise, ask the shelter to call for you. Ralph was never a good eater despite trying many different types of dry and canned food. I am convinced that he was losing weight from the beginning and I didn't realize it. To a layperson, it can be very deceptive. If you're not sure, again be safe and check with a vet.

• If you adopt a animal, take it to a vet for a checkup. Most animal shelters do an excellent job of caring for their animals but it never hurts to have a vet check them thoroughly so you can know up front what you're facing.

• Be prepared for the commitment of owning a pet. While I know that I made many stupid mistakes, I am also upset at the original owners of Ralph. Ralph and Alice were given to the shelter because the woman was pregnant and didn't want cats around the baby. At least she didn't just dump them in the streets like many people. In any case, if you aren't prepared to keep an animal throughout it's life, then you should reconsider owning a pet. Cats especially hate even small changes, much less the stress of completely adjusting to new surroundings in the middle of their lives.

Ralph might be alive today if I had known these things a month ago. I hate the thought that I contributed towards his death. All I ever wanted to do was provide a safe, happy, warm place for my little charges. I am sure that you do too...maybe these tips will help you.

If you do have a cat, I hope he is healthy and happy and stays that way for a long time.

Alice was sitting on my lap earlier today. She is a little thin too.

She goes to the vet on Monday.

Goodbye, Ralph.