As she jumped on our bed, after loudly meowing throughout the house, (she's deaf, so it's a really loud Meow) my husband remembered he forgot to fill her water.
Now, you should know that she always has access to water and up to about the past 6 months, drinking the dog's water out of his bowl was just fine for her. Her kidney disease worsened a little bit (I already told you she's almost 20). So in an effort to get her to drink more water, I've given her her own teacup that I put fresh cold filtered water in. My husband is normally the last to bed, so he checks to see if it needs to be refreshed before bedtime. The last time he forgot to do this, she jumped on our bed and let him know her displeasure by jumping over him and drinking from his bedside water.
So as she jumped into bed, my husband covered his water and even though she's deaf, we still both yelled at her in the haze of 2 AM. She bopped down right between us and had a seizure. She had full on convulsions that were unmistakeable. She hobbled out of our bed and then walked around like she was drunk. I turned to my husband and said, "yep, that was a seizure, I'm awake, right, that just happened?" My husband who wakes up a little faster than I do verified this was not a dream. As I lay anxiously in bed thinking with my doctor mind that this meant that our cat most likely had a brain tumor, our cat had another seizure episode. I turned to my husband wearily and said, "Today might be the day." Meaning that we may have to make the decision to euthanize. I took Duchess into our guest room so I could monitor her and hopefully my husband could get some rest.I know what seizures look like. I've treated probably close to a thousand of them in my career. There is definitely something scary and alarming about them when they happen in your own pet. If I wasn't a veterinarian, I would have taken our kitty to the ER, but I knew that I was competent at monitoring her. If she continued to have seizures, I would take her in and I'd have to get her started on some medication most likely.
In an almost 20 year old cat, even if my family had all the money in the world, we wouldn't get an MRI and have brain surgery or radiation therapy for her. I know these are options and some of my patients have had these performed. If she was 8 or 10 or maybe even 12, I think this would be a route to consider, but knowing how she hates hospital settings and this may still not be what terminates her life, my husband and I agree that if her quality of life is still good, we will try medical therapy, make her comfortable and see how things go.
We had already had a playdate scheduled that morning and Duchess did not have any more seizures. She was pretty sedate and just slept a lot, which isn't atypical for a 20 year old cat. I monitored her and made sure she had plenty of water. My poor husband asked if dehydration from not having her filtered cold water could have caused her problem. I reassured him he had no reason to feel guilty and that this was unlikely. Her deafness and whining in the middle of the night (things that are typical in older kitties) were most likely early signs in retrospect.
So as I was emotional and trying to reconcile "doctor" with "mom" 4 kids came over to our house. Two of them were my sons age and then a 3 year old and a baby. All of them loved cats and dogs and didn't have one of their own.
Our geriatric, epileptic cat came out of her hiding place and rubbed up and purred and let those kids love on her more than most normal cats would. Ok, I thought, maybe today is not going to be the day and this cat is just adding a new disease to her repertoire. As if to taunt me, she also tried to get into the kids' macaroni and cheese when they left the table. Yep, I had to keep a check on how upset and frustrated I got. If I didn't know better, I'd think she faked her seizures for a little sympathy.
Just as I was becoming less afraid that her time was near, my husband commented that she was walking funny. I told him, "well, she's got arthritis." "No," he told me, "she's hobbling and limping like she broke her leg." Then I witnessed it. She was neurologic. If she had a brain tumor, and she didn't have periods where she was acting normal, we could be near the end.
My husband and I had always agreed that we would give Duchess a milkshake before "the end". I told my husband that night to please make her a milkshake. My husband makes good milkshakes and he used to make them all the time before our son was born. Duchess used to try to steal them all the time. It was during this time that my husband truly realized her acrobatic and gymnastic abilities. He had always thought cats didn't have a vertical leap. Then he decided that Michael Jordan didn't have anything on Duchess. My husband's milkshakes are probably one of her favorite things, besides lobster bisque.
My husband looked at me and asked me a couple of time if I seriously wanted her to have a milkshake. I told him yes, just a small one and I promised I would do clean up duty if it unsettled her stomach. He was sweet and then said, "But I don't want to give her any ideas. I don't want her to think because she's getting this milkshake she can just go and die on us!"
My son liked that he was getting a milkshake out of this deal but was seriously perplexed that we were willingly giving the cat one. He asked three times, "Seriously? Seriously? Seriously, you are giving her a milkshake?"
I think this kind of brought it home for my husband that we could be near the end. She kind of looked at me a couple of times as I put the small teacup in front of her as to what she had done to get this. She enjoyed it though and she licked the cup clean.
She had a good evening and this morning my husband couldn't find her. I couldn't find her either. Then I looked up and she had somehow jumped 6 feet up on to the top of my husband's dresser. Not only had she done that but she had also knocked down a heavy ceramic cup that was probably at least 1/6 of her weight. She decimated the cup. She looked at me and it was like she was saying, "What are you looking at? Do you really think I'm going to die on you. Well I ain't dead yet and leave me alone."
Yep, that's the feisty spirit I know. She is good at reminding us that you can't predict what's going to happen and a little spirit and spunk means a lot. Every day is a gift. If a little macaroni and cheese gets stolen or something gets broken, well what does that matter when you got a life to live.
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