Saturday, September 23, 2006

Joy to sorrow and the road in between

Thursday afternoon I was sitting in class and my cell phone kept vibrating in my pocket. I thought maybe Cole's school was trying to reach me, so I stepped outside to check my messages. It was a girl from work calling to say that the local animal shelter called saying my cat Al had been found. I had micochipped him the weekend before I moved back home and they scanned him and called my work. Another girl from work offered to go get him for me since I was in San Marcos, but since the shelter didn't close until 7pm, I said I would get him on the way home, after I picked up Cole.

I was so excited he'd been found. He had been missing almost a month. I really hadn't told many people. I'm so tired of the constant turmoils in my own life and I know other people don't want to hear them either. Anyway... after a month I had kinda of given up hope. At my parent's house he had free access to a doggie door and acres of greenbelt. The first week or so he would venture outside and then come home. But, a month ago he didn't come home one night. The not knowing was awful. Every time I saw a grey and white cat, my heart would skip a beat, until I realized it wasn't him. The news that he had been found was great. I excitedly called my mom and decided I would only go to thirty minutes of my last class so I could beat the traffic.

After class I drove into town and picked up Cole. We stopped by work so I could pick up copies of his proof of vaccination and a carrier. Cole was excited to go get Al and kept asking where he had been all this time. It was a question I wanted to know myself.

When I got to the shelter they peppered me with questions, who called me? how did he get there? etc. They didn't know what cat I was calling about and then they started arguing among each other about why there were no notes in their computer(I'm standing there holding Cole and a cat carrier, just wanting to go see Al), meanwhile one of the vet's overhear them and asked what was going on? When she realized what cat they were talking about, she said "that cat is in critical condition" she admonished them and said I needed to come back and verify that he was my cat and then take him to the vet. My heart dropped. I felt like I could barely put my feet in front of each other as we walked through the maze of hallways to get where he was. She said that someone had called and said that a cat had been in their backyard for three hours and hadn't moved. When he got to the shelter he had a body temp of 94 degrees, was disoriented and dehydrated. He wouldn't stand and was "knuckling" on his front feet when propped up. They had given him some fluids under the skin and done an exam, but found no obvious pain. They had been trying to stabilize his body temp. She said he hadn't made a noise since he'd been there. As soon as I approached his cage and said his name, he gave a pitiful meow. His eyes were staring blankly at the kennel door. She thanked me multiple times for having him microchipped and walked me up front so I could pay my reclaim fee. My mind was reeling, only 10 minutes before I had been expecting a joyous reunion and I had expected to see him mangy, skinny, even scratched up but not this.

I looked at the clock and it was ten minutes to six. I left Cole with the shelter workers and ran out to my car to grab my phone and call work to beg someone to stay after six to help me run diagnostics before I had to take him to the emergency clinic. I didn't ask a doctor to stay, just a nurse to help. Paying my reclaim fee and waiting for them to bring him up front seemed like hours. I then rushed Al and Cole into the car. I had to sit in rush-hour traffic with a panicked kid and a cat open mouthed breathing. My cell phone kept ringing because the news had spread. I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown, everytime Al stopped meowing Cole would say, "Al's dead, mommy Al died." So with one hand on the wheel, one hand on Al, trying to reassure Cole and moving at a snail's pace down Mopac we made it to Brodie. I was so thankful when I saw, Dr. Brown, Enricka, and Leah waiting for me. I would have never asked a doctor to stay and the fact that she did so without thought was wonderful. I have been vet teching for 7 years and my mind would not work, I couldn't remember how to set up the oxygen, the fluid pump, I had shut down. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, had a headache that been a dull pain and turned into a roar and was just trying to tell Dr. Brown what facts I knew. They placed a catheter and got fluids going and gave him some IV pain medication which almost immediately made him breath normal. He had no real deep pain sensation which wasn't a good sign. Enricka and I took x-rays while Leah occupied Cole. Shockingly there wasn't an obvious back injury, which suggested it was most likely a head inury. She gave him a steroid injection and I took him to the EC for the night.

The EC doctor called me at 1:00 am and said that he had developed nystagmus and asked if they could give Manitol which reduces the swelling in the brain. Cole and I went to pick him up in the morning. His front legs were almost completely stiff and we was even more disoriented than before. Dr. Mouser took care of him on Friday and Dr. Brown came up (it was her day off) to check on his neuro status. She had the difficult tasks of telling me his chances. She said 20% was being optimistic. I muddled through the day numbly taking in the words of sympathy.

I kept telling stories of Al, all day. I've had him almost 11 years and he has been my constant companion through all the many changes (jobs, husbands-yikes, towns, houses). When Shane and I were living in Oregon we stopped in the pet store that was next the grocery store. There was a litter of kittens that had been dropped off in a cardboard box, the entire litter was grey and there was one grey and white kitten. When we were shopping, Shane said he had to go to the bathroom. A few minutes later he came around the aisle with Al. At the time we lived in an apartment that didn't allow pets so we decided to name him, "Al Capone" because he was a "criminal" in the building. I can still remember like yesterday the pride of taking my "new baby" to the vet that first time, I can remember the layout of the clinic, the proud pet photos on the wall, them taking a photo (poloroid of course) of him and adding him the the collage and the vet taking one look at his huge paws and saying he'd be a big tom cat (boy was he wrong). Al never met a dog, cat, or person he didn't like.

Around 4:00 pm Dr. Mouser said that he didn't seem to be improving and we agreed to euthanize him. I closed the office door and lost it as I called my mom. She agreed to pick up Cole, so I could be with Al. Around 5:00pm Dr. Mouser decided to give him another steroid injection and I sat with him. He started becoming slightly more orientate and responding to noise, when someone walked by jingling his keys he lifted his head. Dr. Mouser recommended I take him home for the night.

I took him home and continued to feed him through his NG tube and express his bladder. Around 11:00pm when I was preparing to do his treatments, he went stiff, gasped open-mouthed and quickly passed away. I cradled him and then got dressed and blindly drove him to work, calling Leah. I removed his catheter and NG tube, made my own pawprint and said my goodbyes. Even though it seems morbid, it was reassuring and comforting to me that I went through the process alone of saying goodbye. I found comfort in the steps of doing the routine of death that sadly we have to do too often at work. I'm also taking comfort that I had closure and got to say goodbye, instead of always wondering where he was and worrying. I'm thankful that I microchipped him so he didn't have to die alone at the shelter and thankful that someone called the shelter so he didn't die outside, either. So goodbye Al you were the best and most loyal pet I have ever had and thanks to everyone who has helped and offered support.

4 comments:

Joey said...

Kareen, I'm so sorry for you and Al. What a sad story. You know, we lost Butterscotch the day we moved to College Station in 2003. Although he was also microchipped, he never surfaced anywhere. I checked the local vets, shelter, posted fliers, etc. The day we moved away from CS, I was still scanning the area as I drove away looking for a flame point siamese. He was so friendly, I just pray someone took him in. Not having closure is hard, but what you went through is terrible. I'm so sorry for you.

Leah said...

Kareen my heart is breaking for you and Al. I hope you know you were not alone when you said good-byes to Al. I was there with you in spirit.

Anonymous said...

Dammit---I was so hoping that Al would pull through. I'm so sorry, Kareen. I sit here with a cat on my lap as I type this; I know how much they fill up your life. I'm sending you a big hug right now. I know you'd hate it in person.

Vetmommy said...

That is such a sad story, especially the part about the big sad meow he let out when you saw him. I'll never forget Big Al and all his mishaps. He deserved more lives.