Goodbye My Friend

On Friday, one of our kitties passed away very unexpectedly.  Loki was going to turn 8 next month but the Fates saw fit to take him away from us too early.  He was our big orange "monster" who was one of the kindest and most gentle souls you would ever meet and yet at the same time was as dumb as a doornail.  I think the latter was part of his attraction because no matter how big he got he retained the innocence of kittenhood.

Last week we noticed that he was not feeling too well.  I thought that his seasonal allergies were acting up but it seemed a lot worse this time around.  On Wednesday morning I took him to see one of the new vets at our local animal hospital as our usual vet was off that day.  She believed he had a bad upper respiratory infection and gave him some antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory to help him feel better.  I had hoped that would work but the next day he was much, much worse.  He had a hard time breathing and I took him back to see our regular vet.  He took a chest x-ray of Loki and discovered that his chest cavity was full of fluid.  Knowing that this was beyond his level of expertise, he suggested we take him to the nearest animal ER. Sensing urgency, Bear and I drove Loki the hour down to the ER.  Once there, he was placed in an oxygen tank and the ER vet took a sample of fluid from his chest.  However, as it was already late in the day we would have to wait until the morning to find out the results.  We said our goodbyes but as Loki was really in bad shape at this point he did not acknowledge us.  At the time I thought it was due to a combination of the trip--he never traveled well--and him not feeling well.  If I only knew...

The next morning, Friday, we got a call from the internist.  Loki had pyothorax.  I had never heard of it before but it is a buildup of pus inside the pleural cavity in the chest.  It could be due to a variety of things from a puncture wound to pneumonia to a burst tumor.  It was a very serious condition and he warned us that Loki would require chest tubes to drain out the fluid and be put on a series of strong antibiotics.  He would have to stay in the hospital for at least a few days.  While the expense of the treatment was beyond our means--we are talking thousands of dollars--we went ahead.  Loki was an incredibly special boy to both of us and as he was so young we knew we had to try.  Unfortunately, during surgery to put in the chest tubes, he developed complications.  When we got the phone call around 3pm we knew it was not good news.  Loki went into cardiac and respiratory arrest and they were unsuccessful at resuscitating him.

Part of me feels so guilty.  Why didn't I notice anything sooner?  What if I hadn't gone to the stupid meeting on Thursday and I brought him to the vet earlier would he still be alive?  He was my responsibility, my baby, but stupid me was so distracted by work and other worthless issues that I missed it.  I realize that I'm being hard on myself with the "what if" questions but if you knew me you would understand why.  My kitties are my babies.  They, along with Bear, are the only things of importance in my life.  If I let them down what kind of person am I?

All I know is that I miss my Loki so much that it hurts.  I miss rubbing his belly.  I miss seeing all of the other cats curled up with him.  I miss his big floofy tail and the way it twitched when he was all happy.  I just miss my big doofus.

Rest in peace my friend.  One day I will see you at the Bridge...

Loki

(2005-2013)