It has been a rough couple of hours.
Our cat has always been chaotic and lively. He was my partners before we got together and moved into our home not too long after we got it. He did so many things that pissed me off. He would claw the trim to oblivion, any new furniture would have claw marks (even the cat proof couch has little parts of his damage), he would bite my plants as soon as a new leaf popped up to spite me and knock them down so he could sit by the window. He was temperamental and would bite or scratch at random if he just felt like it.
I would say in passing I hated him. Deep down I knew I loved that cat. When he snuck out I would panic and look for him and listen for his meows so I could bring him home. He always wanted to be an outside cat in his mind, but when he found a way to get out he would stay by the house and wait for me to rescue him.
The last few months he mellowed out hard and wanted to stay around us. We thought he was finally getting older and slowing down. It was nice to have him so calm and loving.
About a week or two ago, he was throwing up and not moving a bunch. He did this when he got into something and so we were watching him but not too concerned. The throw up was just liquid and his hair. After a few days, that passed but he still wouldn't do too much.
My keys that I used to have to hide weren't interesting to him anymore. I could leave them on the counter and he wouldn't go after my keychain. It was a red flag but I figured he was tired.
Then he stopped eating. I picked him up one day to move him to the couch and he was so light. I knew he had to go to the vet. We took him to the vet, they did his blood work and a radiography. He weighed 7 pounds. He was a Maine coon mix and probably weighed double that before. There was a mass in his stomach and they weren't sure if it was a foreign object or possibly cancer.
They told us to come back in a week for an ultrasound and he was sent home with prednisone and mirataz that my partner had to ask for. No anti nausea.
We separated him from our other cat in the guest bed. That night I heard him fall and stumble out the bed and let out a little meow. When I came in he was scared under the bed. I spoke to him and he stumbled to me, purring and resting his weight on my body. I lifted him back up and stayed with him that night. He forced peed in the morning.
He didn't leave the bed all day. My partner was with him and he sat in the window. He ended up falling out, probably because he was so weak. I brought him tuna with water, he would eat it by the can, and he was uninterested. I told my partner he couldn't wait a week like this and we went to another emergency clinic for a second opinion.
The vet came in and told us she felt the mass, that he was stumbling and his back legs were weak. She didn't have someone to do the ultrasound but if we wanted we could hospitalize him, he would be on fluids and potentially have a feeding tube. They would do the ultrasound the next day and see what it was. Then they could discuss surgery, which she said would be expensive. She said that was gold level care and that she could send him home with anti-nausea and see if that helped if we didn't want him hospitalized until the ultrasound. Or we could discuss letting him go.
I don't know if he could've handled surgery in his state. He was so weak by then. He could barely hold his head up at times.
Ultimately, letting him go was the most humane option while he still had his dignity. He had a good day. He was surrounded by love. While he was sedated, he had a burst of energy and seemed like himself. I questioned if we were doing the right thing. But I know if we brought him home he would be wasting away again.
We said goodbye last night and I haven't stopped crying.
I wonder if I failed him. If it was a foreign object. I've stared at the radiographs for hours. While he was straight it was a single line and when they moved his body in it curled like a lima bean. What could it be? Should I have waited to know for sure with the ultrasound? He would've been so scared at the hospital. I wondered why I didn't notice sooner. Why didn't he tell us he was in pain? Why wasn't he loud and more aggressive? Why didn't I realize him being so chill was a red flag? What am I going to do now? Who's going to sit with me in my lap in the bathroom?
And I'm angry. I'm so angry at the vets who let him be carried out and scheduled a week out when he was so weak. Why didn't they get us an ultrasound referral? Why didn't they realize he was too small and too risky to not eat for another week while we wait. Why didn't they fight for him?? They did my other animal so wrong and I knew I should've told my partner not to go there. I hate them. I called to cancel his monday appointment and I wanted to say that but I couldn't. All I could do was cry.
I've been slowly cleaning. I made a space on the shelf he used to knock the plants down on so he could stay there forever and look out the window. I've been wishing I was a better parent. That I wasn't so constantly overstimulated and overwhelmed and angry because he was just trying to explore and test his boundaries and didn't know I was having a bad day. I wish I could've been better. I've been hoping he has a home where he can scratch the trim and he'll wait for me to get there so I can grow more plants and he can ruin them. I hope he knows I'm sorry and I wish I was better for him. I'm trying to be strong so my partner can grieve but it's been so hard.
I'm tired honestly. I never thought it would be like this. I put down the cat I said I hated and I've never been more heartbroken.