Friday, August 19, 2011
Slippers
Slippers
Monday, August 15, was a very sad day for me. My sweet kitty, Slippers, passed away.
Slippers came into my life as a kitten 20 years ago. It was a nice fall day in 1991, and I was sitting in my living room. I heard the soft mewing of a cat, but every time I looked outside, I didn’t see anything. However, the mewing continued and I finally traced it to a branch high up in one of my trees. About 20 feet up was a small black and rust colored kitten looking down at me. I called to her, but she wouldn’t budge. I was finally able to coax her down by putting little piles of cat food (I already owned another cat, Molly) on a long board and then raising the board up to the branch, creating a ramp for her to walk down. It took awhile, but she finally made it down the ramp and into my arms.
She was a beautiful tortoise shell, and her nose was half black and half rust. She had a white neck and four little white feet, which is how she got her name, Slippers. I estimated that she was about 5 or 6 months old. I decided to keep her, much to the delight of my 3 children.
Slippers became an indoor/outdoor cat (this was before it became widely-accepted that all kitties should be indoor cats). I would let her outside during the day and she would come back home every night. One day in the spring of 1992, she disappeared. I looked for her for a few days, but couldn’t find her.
A couple months later, my daughter was on her school bus when she heard one of her busmates describing the cat they had just recently found. It sounded just like my Slippers, so I went to the little girl’s house to check. Sure enough, it was Slippers. And, she was pregnant. I told the family she was with that if they wanted her, they could keep her. However, they insisted that I take her back. So I did.
In June 1992, Slippers gave birth to 6 adorable kittens: 5 gray tabbies and 1 one taffy-colored. Slippers was the best mother ever. She never left those kittens and nursed them all the time. In fact, she was so diligent about nursing that she became emaciated. Eventually, the kittens were old enough to go to new homes, but I kept the runt of the litter: a tiny gray tabby named “Baby.”
Over the years, Slippers and Baby grew up together. Baby was strictly an indoor cat (having never been outside), but Slippers loved the outdoor life. When she was about 8 years old, Slippers accidentally ingested some pool chlorine and ended up with a terrible chemical burn in her mouth, on her tongue and down her throat. She was a very sick kitty, and we weren’t sure she would make it. After a long time in the animal hospital, she was finally able to come home; but she had to return daily for tube feeding and IV fluids. After a couple months she healed, but all of the little papillae (spikey-like bristles) on Slippers’ tongue had been burned off.
After the episode with the pool chemical, Slippers became an indoor cat. She no longer seemed to want to go outside, so it was an easy adjustment.
The years passed, and Slippers and Baby aged. In 2008, Baby became very ill: she was diagnosed with intestinal cancer and had to be euthanized. Slippers was so distraught over the disappearance of Baby that every night for 6 months she would walks around the house yowling. It just about drove me and my husband crazy! (Our cat, Molly, had passed away some years earlier at the age of 18.)
After Baby was gone, Slippers became extremely attached to me. She would sleep with me, snuggling under the covers with her head resting on my arm and do “happy paws" against my chest. In the morning when I got out of the shower, she would be sitting on my bed by my pillow waiting for me. Every night, she would sit on my lap and wait patiently for me to give her a few cat treats.
A few months ago, Slippers developed a cough. (By the way, a kitty cough sounds nothing like a human cough.) I took her to my veterinarian, but, of course, she didn’t cough for the vet. Over the course of time, the cough worsened until it gone so bad that she would have these coughing fits and her body would actually shudder. Another trip to the vet determined that she had some 20-year old kitty teeth that were infected, and that was causing her cough. The vet said that she needed to have the teeth removed, but it would be a very risky surgery for such an old cat. (Twenty cat years is like 94 human years.) However, without the surgery, she would get worse and eventually die. The vet assured me that she would take every precaution during the surgery to keep Slippers healthy. I was very nervous about it, but after praying felt that Slippers needed the surgery.
So, Slippers had her surgery on Thursday, August 4. She made it through brilliantly with no complications. I brought her home the day after her surgery, and after a couple days she was back to her old self – minus the cough. I was so relieved. They vet told me as long as she developed no further complications, she could live another 2 or 3 years. (All of her organs were healthy.)
However, one week after her surgery, Slippers started sneezing. Not just one or two sneezes, but 10 sneezes every 5 minutes. I thought maybe she had developed a little cold, so I decided to take her to the vet the next morning. However, the next morning she was having a very difficult time breathing. I could tell she was extremely uncomfortable because she wouldn’t sit down and she was purring extremely loudly. But this wasn’t a happy purr, it was a dreadful sounding purr.
The vet’s office wasn’t open yet, so I left them a message saying I would be waiting at their front door when it opened, and I was. They took her right away. She was in a lot of distress, and now a discharge was coming out of her nose. She was still doing the really loud purring; the vet told me she wasn’t actually purring, but that she was trying to get some air. The vet took Slippers for an x-ray, and the diagnosis was pneumonia. The vet said it was very serious, and because of Slippers’ advanced age, there was only a 50-50 chance she would make it. They decided they would keep her, give her IV antibiotics and fluids, and oxygen if necessary. They were going to do everything possible to get her well. That was last Friday, August 12.
I visited Slippers on Saturday, and she was much sicker than the day before. She could barely breathe and the discharge from her nose was very thick. When she saw me, her breathing became even more labored because of the excitement of me being there. I was heartbroken. I couldn’t see how she was going to get better, especially since she was such an old kitty. But the doctor said there was still a chance! I didn’t stay long because I could see that she was totally stressed by my being there. Both the vet and I agreed that it would be better for Slippers if I didn’t visit anymore until she got well.
So, I didn’t visit on Sunday. The vet called me Sunday afternoon and told me that Slippers had improved slightly. I was encouraged. Monday morning, the vet called me and told me that Slippers had passed away “peacefully” early that morning. I was devastated. All I could think about was that she was alone when she died. I wish I had been there to comfort her.
I told the vet to have Slippers cremated and return her ashes to me. (I have Baby’s ashes, too.) A few days later, one of the other vets in the practice called me to find out how I was doing. I asked her how they could know that Slippers died peacefully. The vet told me that when they found Slippers, she was curled up like she was sleeping. If she had been in distress, she would not have been in this position.
So, that is the story of Slippers. Even as I write this, I am crying. I miss her so much. I still have not put her things away… her bowl and water dish and litter box and cat treats. Her bed is at the vets, and I will pick it up when I get her ashes. I found one of her whiskers, which I will treasure.
Good-bye, Slippers…
Slippers came into my life as a kitten 20 years ago. It was a nice fall day in 1991, and I was sitting in my living room. I heard the soft mewing of a cat, but every time I looked outside, I didn’t see anything. However, the mewing continued and I finally traced it to a branch high up in one of my trees. About 20 feet up was a small black and rust colored kitten looking down at me. I called to her, but she wouldn’t budge. I was finally able to coax her down by putting little piles of cat food (I already owned another cat, Molly) on a long board and then raising the board up to the branch, creating a ramp for her to walk down. It took awhile, but she finally made it down the ramp and into my arms.
She was a beautiful tortoise shell, and her nose was half black and half rust. She had a white neck and four little white feet, which is how she got her name, Slippers. I estimated that she was about 5 or 6 months old. I decided to keep her, much to the delight of my 3 children.
Slippers became an indoor/outdoor cat (this was before it became widely-accepted that all kitties should be indoor cats). I would let her outside during the day and she would come back home every night. One day in the spring of 1992, she disappeared. I looked for her for a few days, but couldn’t find her.
A couple months later, my daughter was on her school bus when she heard one of her busmates describing the cat they had just recently found. It sounded just like my Slippers, so I went to the little girl’s house to check. Sure enough, it was Slippers. And, she was pregnant. I told the family she was with that if they wanted her, they could keep her. However, they insisted that I take her back. So I did.
In June 1992, Slippers gave birth to 6 adorable kittens: 5 gray tabbies and 1 one taffy-colored. Slippers was the best mother ever. She never left those kittens and nursed them all the time. In fact, she was so diligent about nursing that she became emaciated. Eventually, the kittens were old enough to go to new homes, but I kept the runt of the litter: a tiny gray tabby named “Baby.”
Over the years, Slippers and Baby grew up together. Baby was strictly an indoor cat (having never been outside), but Slippers loved the outdoor life. When she was about 8 years old, Slippers accidentally ingested some pool chlorine and ended up with a terrible chemical burn in her mouth, on her tongue and down her throat. She was a very sick kitty, and we weren’t sure she would make it. After a long time in the animal hospital, she was finally able to come home; but she had to return daily for tube feeding and IV fluids. After a couple months she healed, but all of the little papillae (spikey-like bristles) on Slippers’ tongue had been burned off.
After the episode with the pool chemical, Slippers became an indoor cat. She no longer seemed to want to go outside, so it was an easy adjustment.
The years passed, and Slippers and Baby aged. In 2008, Baby became very ill: she was diagnosed with intestinal cancer and had to be euthanized. Slippers was so distraught over the disappearance of Baby that every night for 6 months she would walks around the house yowling. It just about drove me and my husband crazy! (Our cat, Molly, had passed away some years earlier at the age of 18.)
After Baby was gone, Slippers became extremely attached to me. She would sleep with me, snuggling under the covers with her head resting on my arm and do “happy paws" against my chest. In the morning when I got out of the shower, she would be sitting on my bed by my pillow waiting for me. Every night, she would sit on my lap and wait patiently for me to give her a few cat treats.
A few months ago, Slippers developed a cough. (By the way, a kitty cough sounds nothing like a human cough.) I took her to my veterinarian, but, of course, she didn’t cough for the vet. Over the course of time, the cough worsened until it gone so bad that she would have these coughing fits and her body would actually shudder. Another trip to the vet determined that she had some 20-year old kitty teeth that were infected, and that was causing her cough. The vet said that she needed to have the teeth removed, but it would be a very risky surgery for such an old cat. (Twenty cat years is like 94 human years.) However, without the surgery, she would get worse and eventually die. The vet assured me that she would take every precaution during the surgery to keep Slippers healthy. I was very nervous about it, but after praying felt that Slippers needed the surgery.
So, Slippers had her surgery on Thursday, August 4. She made it through brilliantly with no complications. I brought her home the day after her surgery, and after a couple days she was back to her old self – minus the cough. I was so relieved. They vet told me as long as she developed no further complications, she could live another 2 or 3 years. (All of her organs were healthy.)
However, one week after her surgery, Slippers started sneezing. Not just one or two sneezes, but 10 sneezes every 5 minutes. I thought maybe she had developed a little cold, so I decided to take her to the vet the next morning. However, the next morning she was having a very difficult time breathing. I could tell she was extremely uncomfortable because she wouldn’t sit down and she was purring extremely loudly. But this wasn’t a happy purr, it was a dreadful sounding purr.
The vet’s office wasn’t open yet, so I left them a message saying I would be waiting at their front door when it opened, and I was. They took her right away. She was in a lot of distress, and now a discharge was coming out of her nose. She was still doing the really loud purring; the vet told me she wasn’t actually purring, but that she was trying to get some air. The vet took Slippers for an x-ray, and the diagnosis was pneumonia. The vet said it was very serious, and because of Slippers’ advanced age, there was only a 50-50 chance she would make it. They decided they would keep her, give her IV antibiotics and fluids, and oxygen if necessary. They were going to do everything possible to get her well. That was last Friday, August 12.
I visited Slippers on Saturday, and she was much sicker than the day before. She could barely breathe and the discharge from her nose was very thick. When she saw me, her breathing became even more labored because of the excitement of me being there. I was heartbroken. I couldn’t see how she was going to get better, especially since she was such an old kitty. But the doctor said there was still a chance! I didn’t stay long because I could see that she was totally stressed by my being there. Both the vet and I agreed that it would be better for Slippers if I didn’t visit anymore until she got well.
So, I didn’t visit on Sunday. The vet called me Sunday afternoon and told me that Slippers had improved slightly. I was encouraged. Monday morning, the vet called me and told me that Slippers had passed away “peacefully” early that morning. I was devastated. All I could think about was that she was alone when she died. I wish I had been there to comfort her.
I told the vet to have Slippers cremated and return her ashes to me. (I have Baby’s ashes, too.) A few days later, one of the other vets in the practice called me to find out how I was doing. I asked her how they could know that Slippers died peacefully. The vet told me that when they found Slippers, she was curled up like she was sleeping. If she had been in distress, she would not have been in this position.
So, that is the story of Slippers. Even as I write this, I am crying. I miss her so much. I still have not put her things away… her bowl and water dish and litter box and cat treats. Her bed is at the vets, and I will pick it up when I get her ashes. I found one of her whiskers, which I will treasure.
Good-bye, Slippers…
