June 13, 2011 at 12:47 pm | Posted in My life, Parenting | 11 Comments

My cat is sick.

I had noticed that over the past month or so Puck’s water intake, and his subsequent trips to the litterpan, had increased. Pretty significantly.

At the same time, he seemed to be getting lazy about grooming, and his coat started to look pretty bad.

On Memorial Day weekend, we went away. When we got home, 48 hours later, the cat was nowhere to be found.

He had ZERO water in his dish.

I thought the worst, and went looking for him.

I found him in the bathtub, looking like a refugee.

But alive, thankfully.

And SO thirsty.

The low-grade alarm never really subsided over the next couple of days. He wasn’t really eating. Drinking tons of water. And though we bought a brush and were brushing him daily, his coat still looked matted and dull.

So I took him to the vet this weekend. And ahead of the appointment, I of COURSE googled it.

Dr. Google said likely it was his kidneys.

So yeah. He’s down to 10lbs; 4 of which he’s lost over the past year and a half, and 2 from last year at this time.

And the bloodwork came back with elevated toxins, which is a sure sign of kidney disfunction.

They want to rule out a kidney infection, which we’re testing for right now – we should know tomorrow if that’s the case.

But, you know. I’m a worst case scenario planner. Puck is 14, and though that’s not ridiculously OLD, it’s old enough that I need to start accepting that he’s not going to be here with us forever.

I didn’t realize just how hard this would hit me emotionally. Puck has been really my only constant since I graduated college. I’m having a hard time with the idea that it was a life-span ago. (Albeit a cat’s life span, but still. It’s THAT long ago.)

And then there’s O. Who, when told that Puck was sick, took it on himself to shower the cat with well-meant patting and following around. And comments “he’s a nice kitty, Mommy.”

I know I’m going to have to explain the concept of death to him. Much, much sooner than I’d like. And try and answer every “why?” he throws at me, which is hard enough without my own emotions getting in the way.

I know that it’s best to explain death in simple terms. To explain to O that all living things live and die, that when something dies it’s heart stops beating and it doesn’t need to eat or sleep.



That’s how I’m feeling today.



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  1. I’m so sorry. We are actually dealing with something similar with one of our cats; he’s currently in the animal hospital and we’re waiting to get more information so we can figure out what’s next. It’s so hard — he’s like another family member. And A keeps asking if he’s coming home, and we just don’t know.

    I hope you get some good news.

  2. Poor Puck. : ( This must be so hard for you. The “explanation” problem is a stressor in itself.

    The vet told us Sadie would eventually die from congestive heart failure or its complications because of her heart murmur, which we are currently managing with medicine and imaging. I hope she has a few more good years with us. Last week I noticed that she seems less energetic, but perhaps it’s the heat. I feel terribly guilty that the past 2 years have been so very different for her.

  3. 😦 I’m sorry … it’s awful to lose a pet, especially one that has been a member of your family for so long …

  4. I’m so sorry. We lost one of ours when BabyHope was too little to understand. Our other, Dante, is now 17 and steadily losing – he’s got kidney problems, thyroid problems, liver problems. We’ve decided no more vet visits – there’s not really much that they can do for him anymore, and it stresses him out. But anyway. I’m sorry. It’s hard.

  5. My best wishes and my heart goes out to you and Puck.. I lost a 19yr old cat a few years ago from the same thing – I was devastated and it still brings tears to my eyes when I think of her. Hopefully there are a few things you can do for him, kidney specific food etc…. They are such good friends and often, are a constant in our lives for SOOO long. The stories they could tell!!!

    So sorry to hear this news 😦

  6. I’m so sorry Puck is sick. Thinking of you all.

  7. I’m sorry. Sickness in a pet is really hard. 😦

  8. I am so sorry to hear about Puck. I lost my 10 year old dog, Augie, this fall. I knew what was going to happen when I took him to the vet that day and had to drop Smooch at day care on the way. He knew that Augie wasn’t feeling well because he was not himself and he was bleeding from a ruptured tumor. Normally Augie would go in the hatch back of my SUV, but he wouldn’t go in that morning so I let him sit in the back seat with Smooch. He must have needed the comforting and sat with his head on my little boys knee. I did my best to explain as much as his little 2 1/2 year old brain could understand. It is amazing what they grasp! He talks about Augie a lot still and tells me he sees him in his dreams. We’ve never really spoken about the day I took the dog in, but about 3 weeks ago we were driving home and he just started reminiscing about that day. He totally remembered it and even said “Augie was sick, but I made sure he felt better before he went to heaven.” It really was incredible! O will do fine when the time comes and I’m sure Puck’s memory will live on through O!

  9. I’m so sorry that Puck is sick. I love my little girls (who will be seven this fall) so much, it makes me cry just thinking about something happening to them. I hope there’s something they can do to make him more comfortable and give you more time with him.


  10. Oh, the agony of losing a pet. We lost Fluffy to kidney disease last year (same time as a BFN and losing my grandma). My heart goes out to you. Puck knows you love him.

  11. To be truthful, I have loved my pets more than I love some of my human relatives. Losing them, or watching them get sicker is awful!!

    At this moment I have a 12 y/o kitty sitting on my lap. He is the one that 6 years ago the vet told me would only last another couple of months because his kidneys (labs, urine etc) were so bad. He’s “fine” now, and thinks he his a dog. The one thing we did change was his food. We got him on a very low ash food and he slowly started to get his coat back, and his attitude. He is now drinking a normal amount of water (I keep some upstairs and downstairs) and because I am crazy, I clean his litter box twice a day (I SAID I was crazy!) so I keep tabs on what’s there.

    I hope Puck rallies and gives you more years of memories.

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