My heart is in a thousand pieces and my eyes are awash with tears as I'm posting this. Please help me to mourn and to celebrate a life well lived.
Gabby is a “pound kitty” who won my heart by curling up on my legs and chewing on my shoelaces when we met at the shelter. Her estimated birthday is Valentine’s Day, 2000. Her predecessor, Gracie, crossed the Bridge on that day and Gabby possesses many of Gracie’s qualities. As best we could guess, Gabby was born around the same time that Gracie crossed. Gabby is a bit of a diva and will not allow anyone except me test her and anyone giving her a shot has to be very courageous and crafty. She is clearly a mama's girl and defines “tortitude.”
Gabby was diagnosed with FD on 5-26-2009. At the time of diagnosis, she was a very sick kitty. She had pancreatitis, diabetic ketoacidosis, and hepatic lipidosis. She spent 3 days on the ICU with two vets being just as happy as I was that she survived. Since that time, she’s been healthy and enduring the relentless attention of Gizmo who adores her. She rightfully earned her crown as the diving diva. It was a challenge to get her numbers regulated and the help of the many people who guided my learning has been valued on a daily basis.
Fast forward to October. At that vet visit, Gabby’s labs showed the early stages of kidney disease and her blood pressure was high. We started her on medication for her blood pressure that affected her appetite. By Thanksgiving, she’d lost an alarming amount of weight and her kidney values were awful. As you’ve all seen, I was able to keep her well regulated until very recently when her BG values became worse than when she was first diagnosed. The kidney disease was very rapidly progressing. Despite an appetite stimulant, medications for nausea, sub-q fluids, and a phosphorus binder, Gabby’s body was just not rebounding. She has been fading away before my eyes.
I know I have said this to several people on the Board. A cat will tell you when it’s her time. It’s our job to be wise enough to listen. This morning, Gabby refused to eat. She has been lying next to her water bowl. It was before dawn, I lit a fire and I picked her up, laid down with her on the sofa with her cuddled on my chest. She gave me a small purr – something she has not done in the last week or two. I told her how much I love her and she looked in my eyes and told me that it was her time to fly free and join the many of her friends who are already at the Bridge. The vet will be here later today.
Gizmo knows Gabby is sick – he spent a good half of an hour grooming her. In my heart, I know that when we bring a kitty into our home, it is a forever decision and that ultimately we choose tears since their time is relatively short. Gabby is my kitty and I am her bean and she let me give her shots, fluids, pills and all else that is involved with her care without a peep. (She hisses at everyone else.) She has weathered a move across the country and to a new condo that she loves as much as I do, the loss of her first companion, George, the ministrations of Gizmo, and this last battle is one that at almost 16 years of age, she just doesn’t have the stamina for. I do not want to let her go but that would be for me and it would be far too painful to see her fade away further.
So, please light candles and send soft light to grace my kitty’s way to the Bridge and to assure her that she is well loved and that her friends will be there to keep her safe and will understand if she doesn’t want to play -- because, after all, she’s a tortie and they will have to win her trust.
Flying Free
