The Plot Bunny Farm

Cloud died this morning, two months shy of 14 years.

When I adopted him from the rescue society in the East Bay (he had been a feral kitten), they told me his name was Ferris. Silly name for a cat. Sillier, still, I suppose, is the fact that I thought they said Ferrous, and my first reaction was that that was the wrong color.

Dancer was easy to name. She was tiny with these long, graceful legs.

Cloud, though? It took me a day or two. He was silver and gray with undertones almost of lavender, and wonderfully fluffy. Skittish, too. He would run if anyone approached him, though he was happy to curl up next to someone on the bed and go to sleep. I woke up in the morning to a semi-overcast sky, with all these different shades and the light shining through and making some glow. That's when I knew that Cloud was his name -- for the colors, for the fluffiness, for the fleeing nature.

Dancer was so affectionate, she was almost a dog. She loved laps, would climb up onto people's shoulders to get closer to them, and played fetch with the little fur-covered plastic mice.

Cloud would lie there and watch me playing with Dancer as though he wanted to join in, but he never did, even when I threw the mouse in his direction.

He gradually warmed to people -- first to me and the kids of the family I lived with, letting us approach and pet him. He always liked women and kids better than men; maybe he'd been frightened by men while wild. I don't know. Still, he spent more time hiding than visible when people came to visit, and some friends teasingly suggested I was just making up the second cat.

Introducing him to Jazz, the dog my husband had when we first met, was interesting. Jazz was eager to meet the cats, cornering them. Cloud didn't like that much, and Jazz got a scratch across his nose for his trouble. Once Jazz calmed down (after several more visits) and left the cats alone, Cloud calmed down a fair bit, too.

In fact, my mother-in-law came to visit us shortly after we got married, and she brought her dog with her. Rain was a beautiful dog who was a bit spacy. She played with invisible friends. When she came to our house, she walked by Cloud like he wasn't even there. This annoyed him, and he started following her, trying to get her to notice him.

Cloud lived with me in seven different places, apartments and houses. As he got older, he mellowed more. He didn't always run when my husband came near him. He shifted to sleeping with the 7yo when 7yo was about 2-1/2 or 3. He started coming out to greet visitors, and would even jump up on the couch and try to get them to pet him. He never was a lapcat, though.

Over the last year, he's slowly gone downhill, and I've made no secret of my worries about him. Yesterday, I knew his time had come. I sat down with him on my lap for a couple of hours and spent what time I could throughout the day. I did my best to keep him comfortable. He didn't move much, and I made a bed of towels for him in the kitchen to rest on.

When I got up this morning, my husband said Cloud was still with us. By the time I got out to the kitchen, though, he'd stopped breathing. He was a good cat, and he will be missed.

*sigh*

The cat's been going to the bathroom pretty much everywhere -- sometimes in his litter box, sometimes not. I've done everything I can to encourage him to use the litter box, including restricting access to the rest of the house, cleaning up anything soft I can on the floor, and making sure the litter box is always clean. But he has a flexible definition of "soft," evidently. Tonight, it was a couple of the baby's books sitting on a corner of the rug, over the hardwood floor.

Husband's hit his limit. He was throwing things around and yelling (not helpful when I'm trying to get kids to bed), and I went out and asked if there was anything I could do to help. He said, "Take the cat to a vet."

Yeah, and I don't think he means for more bloodwork.

Cloud's still getting sick, though less frequently. He's not looking any better. And now this. Husband might have a point.

So Monday, if they're open, I'm calling the vet. If not, I'll call Tuesday. Expect major meltdown from me next week.

We were up until 11 watching Iron Man, which wasn't terrible, though I would have preferred an earlier bedtime. (Especially after staying up late the night before to watch election returns.) Then baby wakes up at 2. While I'm comforting her, cat enters room and (ewwww!) has diarrhea and gets sick. I wind up taking baby back to bed with me so I can close the bedroom door (to keep the dog out) and deal with mess today.

Dog decides around 5:30 he wants to get up, and starts whining at our bedroom door to go out. By 6:30, I'm up. Can't figure out what to do about the rug the cat has soiled. Ask hubby's opinion. He says we'll have to trash the rug, which means he needs to move furniture--later. Crack open the window to deal with the smell and close the door.

I called the vet's office, told them that Cloud has taken a turn for the worse. Have an appointment at 2:20 this afternoon.

More updates as life progresses . . .

So the packed cell volume is half the normal level, and Dr. Schindler said that when it gets into the teens, we've moved from moderate to severe. If it gets to low teens or single digits, about the only thing that can be done is marrow transplant.

He suggested erythropoietin to try to increase the level of red blood cells being created. This involves injections three times a week for at least 2 weeks. (He said it might be as many as 6 or 7). With the blood work needed to monitor progress, we're looking at probably several hundred dollars, though he doesn't think it'll go as high as a thousand. So did I want him to look into getting some, as they don't have it? I said yes. What was I going to do--say the cat's not worth that much to me?

We discussed possible causes for the drop in red blood cells. There might be a problem with the bone marrow, either cancer or fibrosis (which would cause it to lose its function). He could be making abnormal blood cells that are being destroyed by the body. He could be making *normal* blood cells that his body is attacking for whatever reason, but the vet said the blood work indicates that's rather unlikely. It is unlikely that he is bleeding anywhere--there is no evidence of internal bleeding. Dr. Schindler is going to see if there's enough blood from this morning's draw to send out and check for reticulocytes (RBC precursors) so we can at least find out whether Cloud's making them.

Given the symptoms and Cloud's age, Dr. Schindler feels that cancer is the most likely problem, but he can't be definitive without a biopsy. We're not doing that right now.

The vet's office will be giving me another call as soon as there's word on the erythropoietin.

Vet called promptly at 2. Just got off the phone. Doing better, can come home. Blood work shows no sign of diabetes or thyroid problems. He's eating canned food there, so the vet recommends I switch to that here. May be a tooth problem, but nothing they can see obvious.

One concern is that when his hydration went up, his red blood cell count went down, so he's slightly anemic. They'll want me to come back and get that checked next week to see if it goes up, down, or what. With just the oddity in blood cell count, that may be indicative of cancer. If so, there's basically nothing that they can do about it, he said. So we'll hope for a better count next week, and meanwhile, I'm off to the vet to get him.

Just got back from dropping our remaining cat at the vet. I got Cloud at the same time as Dancer. He was always the shy one, the one who made other people ask, "Are you sure you have two cats?" Until the last few years, when he started coming out to check out visitors. I was shocked today when the vet put his hand down toward Cloud and Cloud butted his head against it to get petted.

He's lost a LOT of weight lately. I hadn't realized how much. He hasn't been eating this past week--I realized the other day I haven't had to refill his food bowl. And he's looking almost skeletal underneath his fluffy fur.

Now he's at the vet, getting an IV for fluids, having blood drawn for testing, maybe getting an X-ray if it seems warranted. We'll pick him up before they close this evening so he can spend the night at home. Just got a call from the vet, and they really want him to stay overnight for the extra fluids.

Possibilities broached include everything from bad teeth (making it too painful to eat) to hyperthyroidism to diabetes to cancer.

I'm just hoping this turns out better than last September with Dancer. . . .