I thought I was through buying diapers.
But this past week has seen some major changes in our household. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t posted in so long.
No, it’s not what you think.
We woke up one morning last week to find that our beloved 15-year-old cat had lost the use of his back legs. Poor thing was sprawled on the floor, trying to pull himself toward us, legs dragging behind. He just meowed pitifully up at us, as if to say, “What the hell happened to me?!”
We rushed him to the vet, who had no good answers other than to say that our cat was extremely healthy for his age. The paralyzed legs were most likely the result of either an infection or a neurological problem.
The cat is now on Prednisone and some antibiotic which I can’t pronounce (or type). Based on a whole lot of anecdotal evidence, we’re hoping for him to recover the use of his legs. We know from the x-rays that the problem is not a tumor or a break in his spine.
Which brings me to the diapers.
Along with his legs and tail, the cat has also lost control of his bladder and bowel control. The diapers keep the mess confined to his back end, rather than having it spread all over the large cage which he is now confined to restrict his movement.
It greatly saddens me to think of the decision we’ll have to make if he doesn’t recover the use of his legs. He’s been the best cat ever for over 15 years. Our first child, really. My kids have never known life without him.
But his quality of life would be miserable, and it breaks my heart to see him stuck in that cage, wearing a diaper, crying out to us because he doesn’t understand what is happening to him.
Hopefully he gets better. We’ve already seen some small signs of movement in his legs, so there is reason to feel optimistic.
I don’t mind buying him diapers at the store. Anything to nurse him back to health. We need this cat in our lives for a few more years.
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I feel your pain and I know where your head is when you’re wondering what will happen next and when do you have to make the horrible decision to end it all (hopefully he’ll pull through this one).
Back in May I had to do just that for our 13 year old Golden Retriever who had carried a nasal tumour for 12 months or so until finally it affected his appetite and his health, which spiralled downhill fast – and no matter how much you promise yourself you’ll be tough and do what’s best, you won’t, there’s always another day, another treatment – its painful how much we attach ourselves to pets, I still regret the day I took him to the vets for the last time.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed that antibiotics do the trick.
I’m so sorry…I hope he recovers, and quickly.