Facing the Natural Death of a Feline Companion
Not going to lie … this one is going to be tough. It’s been 10 days since my feline companion of 19 years shuffled off this mortal coil and I’m knee deep in working through the various stages of grief. If you’re one of those people who would say, “It was just a cat”, this one’s not for you.
It also took me 10 days to sort through exactly what I wanted to say, because I knew something had to be said. The internet is sorely lacking when it comes to the natural death of a pet. How I’ve come to define that term is a death without intervention. And by intervention, I’m talking about the big “e” here … euthanasia.
I’m hoping that by writing about my awesome cat, her life, her death, and what I’ve experienced and learned in the process, that it might help someone else who is desperately searching the web for answers.
A Special Cat
On Valentines day of 1998, I said goodbye to my previous cat, Special K. I rescued her from death row at a pound in Los Angeles. I’d like to think I gave her 6 happy years that she wouldn’t otherwise have had. In the end, her kidneys failed completely. When I took her to the vet, the vet convinced me to end it right there. I was 25 at the time, completely ill prepared for something of that maginitude, and it was the single hardest decision I’d ever made. In fact, over all these years, that decision still haunts me to this day.
By May of that year, I was still grief-striken over the loss, but wanted to bring another cat into my life. This cat had to be special too though. Now I know everyone thinks their cat is special … and they’re all special in their own ways. But to me, it was about finding the “right” cat – the one that is meant to be in your life. I truly believe special animals do come into your life and you both benefit from the bond that forms.
This may sound strange to some, but humor me. I got out a map of Los Angeles and with a pendulum my dad had made me, I dowsed to help me find my next cat. I’d always had a connection to dowsing with a pendulum and after about 20 minutes of going over the map, I honed in on a particular area just south of Santa Monica Boulevard, around Robertson. The next day I got in the car and went over there. What I found there kinda gave me one of those ooowwwweeeooo moments, but also made me smile. It was a veterinary clinic. The sign out front read, “Kitten adoptions this Saturday”. So you bet I was there bright and early that Saturday morning.
When I showed up, the front desk lady explained the adoption process and fee and then led me to a room where the kittens were all on a counter with a barrier around the edge. I walked up to the counter. The kittens were all over the place but one turned and looked at me and strutted confidently towards me and let out a tiny meow. I had been chosen. Within 15 minutes we were riding back to my apartment. The name popped into my head on the ride back: Isis. Her name would be Isis, after the Eqyptian goddess.
Confident, Determined, Stubborn, Willful
I often told people that my cat is what happens when you name a feline after an Egyptian goddess. Sure, you could say it goes to their head a little, but I don’t think cats ever forgot they actually were worshiped in ancient Eqypt either. And the special thing about Isis was that she just exuded confidence and a very strong will. Later, I’d learn of something called, “Torbietude”. It’s an odd little trait applied to Torbie cats (a Torbie is simply the coloring of the coat – a cross between Tortoiseshell and Tabby). They’re fiery … they’ve got spirit … and they do things their way. They’re not afraid to let you know it either. If you’re a favorite companion to a Torbie (or a Tortie, for that matter), consider yourself lucky because that bond is a strong one. In fact, out of all my previous cats, Isis and I were by far the closest.
At a time in my life where I really needed to have confidence (I’d recently started my own design agency), stand up for myself, and make my own way, there was Isis to constantly remind me of that.
Over time, I’d learned that she was an awesome judge of character as well. If Isis approved of you, then you were generally a good, trustworthy, honest person. If she didn’t, well, let’s just say that she was never wrong in all her years when she judged someone harshly. The exception was our cool veterinarian, who I’ll mention shortly. She only complained (in her cranky “old lady” voice) about being handled “inappropriately”, but that was to be expected.
I could go on, but hopefully you get the idea of the big personality and uniqueness of this special cat.
2012
In May of 2012, Isis got sick while we were out of town. My friend who was watching her was keeping me posted on what was going on and I’d made the decision to call one of the local vets who made house calls (Isis did not travel well). Long story, a shortened vacation, and $2000 later, this vet did not know what was wrong with her. My other half and I made the case that Isis had no symptoms before this and that she had otherwise seemed like her normal self. This vet told us repeatedly that it was probably time to just put her down. To us, at that time, it was unthinkable.
We took home bags of subcutaneous fluid with instructions how to give them and also started to syringe feed her. She hated the syringe feeding but deep down, we knew it was not her time and we knew that she could overcome this mystery illness. (By the way, years later we would find out she had pancreatitis — something the veterinarian should have known just by her symptoms.) I took to the web to do some of my own research and happened on this website promoting a algae/spirulina formula for cats and dogs. The reviews and the info looked good, so I placed an order. I’m into natural health myself, so why not turn that direction for my best cat buddy?
I kid you not, after only 1/2 capsule of the BioPreparation F3, Isis wanted to eat on her own. I kept giving it to her in food and she made a full recovery.
I remember about 6 months later I ended up bumping into the local vet at a grocery store. She awkwardly asked me about Isis. I said, she’s doing well. She looked shocked. I knew she’d already written her off as beyond hope.
2016
When you’ve got an 18 year old cat, you know deep down that the end will come sooner than later. In 2015 we noticed Isis was “mowing” all the fur off her belly. Usually when cats bite off fur like this it’s because something in their environment has changed, they’re anxious, or they’ve got a physical problem. We tried various things but the mowing kept up. I knew I did not want to deal with the local vet so I searched around for an alternative. I found a mobile vet who, at the time, worked out of a feline-only clinic about an hour and a half away. Not only was she a regular veterinarian, but also skilled with traditional Chinese Medicine for animals. Once again, I figured that Chinese medicine has worked so well for me in the past, why not my cat? I reached out to her. We arranged for her to come down and have a look at Isis. She gave her acpuncture and a special herbal mix. I know it was because of Dr. Halle that Isis’ quality of life was good right up to the very end.
Later in the year, I would notice little things Isis would do. I knew deep down she was communicating with me that she wasn’t going to be around a whole lot longer. I tried my best to be as stoic as she was about the whole notion of the end, but I’m a big, emotional, empathetic softie. There were many nights where she’d sit with me in bed then curl up alongside me and sleep for the night. I knew I needed to be mindful of every moment. I remember getting all choked up some nights because I didn’t want to have to go through what was coming. Looking back, it was probably harder on me than it was on her.
In December, we had Dr. Halle drive down for a blood test. The results were stage 3 kidney disease. The only symptom she was exhibiting at the time was drinking more water (and consequently using the litterbox more). Other than that, she was pretty good. She ate well (including looking for waffle hand-outs from my breakfast in the mornings), hung out with us a lot (we have a home office), enjoyed lounging around all of her favorite spots, and loved my famous 30 minute (or however long she wanted) face rubs.
March 26th, 2017
March 26th was Isis’ birthday. She was pampered as usual, but she just didn’t seem herself. Something was off. We actually thought she was constipated. She was always a good pooper, to put it bluntly, and it just wasn’t happening like it had been. She was having a little trouble walking too. The back legs just didn’t seem to want to function right. At the time, we thought it was her arthritis kicking up a notch. Turns out, that was a symptom of the end-stage kidney disease (stage 4) … it just didn’t show up until her last couple weeks.
On March 30th I got in touch with Dr. Halle and she recommended another blood draw but couldn’t get down here. Reluctantly, we took her to the local vet only to get the blood draw so we could share the results of it with the awesome vet. I regret taking her back to that place. On the phone, they told me we could be with Isis the entire time. That was lie. When we got there, they told us we were not allowed in the back. We reluctantly handed her over to a vet tech. After about 10 minuets we were called to one of the exam rooms. Our beloved cat was not in the room. The same vet from over 4 years ago came out and said, “Did you know she has a mass in her abdominal area?” We didn’t, but I instead asked about the blood draw and when we could get the results. I was told it was, “pointless” because she was going to die and we should just put her down now.
What happened next still infuriates me. The vet kept on recommending euthanasia (I now refer to her as Dr. Kevorkian). When I mentioned I am not making that decision for Isis, her whole demeanor switched. She looked at us, and treated us like we were inhumane mosters. We were told we were dooming our cat to a long, painful, death. I still wanted blood results but by this point I was so angry at the way we were being treated I could barely talk. I just wanted out of there and I wanted to rescue my cat from that place and take her home.
When we finally got home, I sat with Isis and apologized for putting her though that. I talked to the other vet and explained what happened. I didn’t have the blood test results because they didn’t run them. She said it’s never pointless to have blood results to be sure of what’s going on. So I ended up calling the local vet back and requesting she still run them. Well, they had not refrigerated the blood sample, because they thought it was pointless, so there went that (at least they didn’t charge us for bloodwork). Dr. Halle had some recommendations, which we tried, but Isis didn’t perk up.
A Natural Death
I knew it was the end. Isis knew it was the end. We were not going to try any drastic measures to keep her kidneys going just a little bit longer. It was all passed that point. The herbs kept her going the past 12 months and improved her quality of life greatly, but feline kidneys seem to be pretty hell bent on failing eventually.
I knew that Isis wanted to go on her terms. Her whole life was lived on her terms, why should her death be any different? There was no way in hell a vet was going to help her along. Seriously. When you’ve spent almost 20 years with a cat, especially one as willful and determined as Isis, you understand them. They have their own way of communicating and you understand that as well.
Thankfully, Dr. Halle was my lifeline during that last week. Through email she basically held my hand and told me what to expect. This was when I also started looking around the web for others who have gone through the process of their cat dying naturally. I found a few sparse blogs and some forums where a concerned human companion had posted that their cat was dying. The response was almost universally, “You have to do the right, humane thing and have them ‘put to sleep’.” Occasionally you would get someone basically calling the person a selfish, inhumane monster if they were just going to let their cat die on its own. The inhumane monster bit seems to be a recurring theme.
Like I mentioned, I’ve gone that route in the past and it’s still a decision I regret, even though I’ve convinced myself over their years that Special K was not the kind of cat that could have just died on her own (as silly as that sounds). Believe it or not, I’m not even anti-euthanasia. There are times where that probably is the best, most humane choice. In my case, with my cat, it wasn’t. I knew that she wasn’t going to languish for a very long time and was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be in pain. In fact, I’d busted out the very same pendulum that I’d used to find her in the first place and I asked her some pretty deep questions, including when she was going to make her exit. The answer to that last one, was Thursday morning (April 6th).
It seems to be almost taboo to even talk about allowing your pet to leave this existence on their own terms. Not just that, but what it really means to allow life to naturally come to an end (and what that actually entails). Thanks to our very caring vet and her Eastern medicine approach, we learned the various stages of the process (I’d also highly recommend reading her blogs on palliative care and the natural dying process). Among other things, we learned that no, our cat was not “starving”. The digestive process naturally shuts down. There is no need for it anymore. Even still, in her last week, we gave Isis little bits of all of our favorite treat foods such as warmed salmon juice, sardines, ice cream, ham, roasted chicken, bacon, and waffles. When she didn’t eat the waffles, I knew she was over food. I made sure she had water and she did drink that up until the day before she passed.
On Saturday, we set her up in bed with a blanket, a heating pad and my ipad with a cat adventure video on YouTube. She seemed to be quite entertained by it. I made sure she was as comfortable as possible. This was palliative care, but to put it mildly, this cat was pampered all the way to the very end.
We could all tell she was not in pain. She was very relaxed actually. Stoic as ever. Accepting. The first couple days, I helped her get into the litter box. After that her mobility was just not there and I made sure there was a towel under her and changed it and made sure she was clean. I brushed her fur every night. She was such a stickler about every bit of fur in place her whole life. I knew she’d appreciate that.
As Thursday loomed closer, my grief really kicked in. She would just look at me as if I were the one needing comfort, not her. She was set. By Tuesday, it seemed like she was in a more lucid state, but still aware, and still relaxed. I’d mentioned that it seemed like she already had 2 paws on “the other side”. Probably exploring. She was always nosy.
On Wednesday I stayed up all night because I wanted to be there for her. Morning came. I had dozed off slightly. When I came to, she meowed once at me. I told her it was okay to let go. I set her little bed on the chair she loved to lay on in the office and then set that next to mine. For two hours I just sat there with my hand on her. I had to go downstiars for something so I told my other half to stay with her. I was only gone a couple minutes but she chose that time to make her grand exit. I’ve heard that before though. When left to their own devices, your beloved pets will wait for their favorite human to leave the room before they move on. She spared me that final scene. It happened at about 11:01 a.m. on Thursday, April 6th. Right on her schedule.
I had made the call to the local pet cremation service and we needed to bring her in at 5 p.m. that day (believe it or not, she didn’t want to be buried either, but I surmised that it was because she knew we didn’t have the means to build her a pyramid and have her mummified). We had a little wake for her downstairs and surrounded her with all of her favorite things from life. I picked some of the flowers and plants from outside that she was always trying to nibble on when we’d go out together and set the small bouquet between her paws. I tucked her favorite yellow ball toy (that she’d had for about 17 of her 19 years) under the flowers.
After the end …
When it was all said and done, I really started to question who pet euthanasia is really for and sadly, I think it’s mostly for us humans. We’ve convinced ourselves that we’re giving our animal companions the best. We’re saving them from unnecessary suffering. For most, our pets spend their entire lives with us. They’re dependent on us. We’re so concerned about the best care, best food, best toys, etc. and so we’ve determined that the best death is a merciful, quick one that happens before the dying process really kicks in.
I mentioned the “mystery” illness episode in 2012 to also illustrate that sometimes the recommendation to put a pet down could be robbing them of more happy, healthy years of their life.
Our animals probably do understand us and understand why we make these decisions. They don’t have a “voice” like we do, but they do have ways of communication. We just need to listen closely to them. Isis forced me to reevaluate everything, including myself. I have a deep respect for that cat and I no longer fear the natural process of death like I used to. During that week, I was able to care for Isis, make her comfortable, and ease her passing from this life. I do not regret the decision.
We open our homes and our hearts to the special animals that we share our lives with and they never truly leave. Isis will live forever now … like all Egyptian Goddesses (but I’m really going to miss her).
