The story of Myrtle
Thanks to everyone who has sent me condolences over Myrtle... If folks have read through the LJ comments, they have probably noticed references to the extra time Myrtle had, all I put into keeping her going, etc.
Myrtle came to me from the MSPCA in March, 2001. A landlord brought her and two other cats in after some tenants left them behind (MSPCA folks say the beginning of the month is always a good time to find nice older pets...) I had many cats to choose from, but the little tabby with the green eyes and crooked grin chose me. I nearly took her pal, too, but her pal was rather undersocialized and tended to bite and scratch without warning.
As one would expect, I took Myrtle to the vet. The first thing that happened is that no one could find a spay scar on her -- but they figured she was spayed, given her age and former place in someone's life as a pet. I had to convince the MSPCA to give me until summer to figure out whether she was spayed. This was especially important because my vet also told me that she had hyperthyroidism and her teeth needed a lot of work, and until the hyperthyroidism was taken care of, she couldn't have any surgery. The vet thought she might be older than the "11-13 years" from her MSPCA cage tag.
I took her home and after a couple of days introduced her to Spook, my other cat. They had some adjusting to do, but luckily Spook had been well-trained in feline submissiveness by Myrtle's predecessor, Midnight. So Myrtle -- all of 6 1/2 pounds at the time -- was able to establish her dominance over Spook, who was over twice her size. We started her on anti-thyroid meds, with the hope that she'd soon be healthy enough to have some teeth extracted. She seemed to do OK for a while, but then she stopped eating and was throwing up whenever she did eat. She was miserable.
The alternative, when a cat cannot tolerate anti-thyroid meds, is to have it treated with radiation. This is expensive, and requires a 2-week boarding at the facility where it is done. So... $1000 and 2 weeks later, Myrtle came home with a very cute radioactive-sign collar, and a care sheet (primarily having to do with disposal of her litterbox contents, which were considered mildly hazardous waste...) A few weeks later, she had her teeth done and her funny grin was even more amusing as she was down to 2 canine teeth, diagonally opposite each other.
(She never came into heat, so we assumed she was spayed...)
For about a year and a half after that, we had a pretty uneventful life together (well, I got married to deguspice, but Myrtle wasn't perturbed by the invasion of guests.) She liked to sleep with me, had a great purr, and rapidly turned into a little Butterball of a cat. She had a cheerful disposition, except when hungry.
And then she started limping. Her "elbow" joint on the left side started losing range of motion. The vet gave me PT-like exercises to do with her, but the joint got more and more stiff and swollen. Eventually, she couldn't touch her paw to the floor, and was limping around on 3 legs. After several weeks and many X-rays, it became apparent that she had some sort of bone cancer in the joint. There were little bone spurs everywhere and they were getting worse... so, just before Arisia 2003, her leg was amputated.
She came home (right after Arisia) with a big incision and a missing leg, but a very healthy attitude. When the biopsy results came back, it was not good news. She had some sort of cancer that is common in dogs but almost unheard of in cats, and dogs who had it typically lived no more than 6 months.
And today is December 15, one month short of 3 years since her leg was amputated. Clearly Myrtle did not read the biopsy report!
But... she was still an old cat (one vet, recently, told me he thought that she was at least 19 or 20, but it's very hard to tell.) She lost a few more teeth (including another canine), and while she was quite mobile for a long time, the joints in her remaining front leg were swollen and sore, and she developed a nasty looking sore on one of her back legs, which may have been another tumor. Eventually the "ankle" joint on her front leg collapsed, and her "elbow" was getting suspiciously swollen and bumpy, so the cancer may well have returned.
About 8 or 9 months ago, as often happens with old cats, her kidneys started to go; I started her on sub-Q fluids in June. (jim_p very kindly took her in two times when we went on vacation, since he has experience with "kidney cats.") And she started having heart palpitations, which precluded any more dental work. But... she ate, she slept, she purred (except for a brief period this fall when she lost her purr, for unknown reasons), and she seemed generally happy. I had to block the stairs so she couldn't use them, because her balance was getting worse and it was clearly agony for her to come down the stairs (I'd give her the treat of getting carried upstairs to the couch from time to time.)
This past couple of weeks, she was losing weight again, and she was having a very, very difficult time moving around. I think that without the latter, I might have been able to keep her going for another 6 months -- but just getting to the food bowl and the litterbox was difficult for her, and she would stop and rest after being on her feet for a minute or two.
And so... we spent today together; she slept in my lap and purred for several hours, and then it was time. And I still keep looking down to the heated kitty bed under the computer desk, expecting her to be there...
Myrtle came to me from the MSPCA in March, 2001. A landlord brought her and two other cats in after some tenants left them behind (MSPCA folks say the beginning of the month is always a good time to find nice older pets...) I had many cats to choose from, but the little tabby with the green eyes and crooked grin chose me. I nearly took her pal, too, but her pal was rather undersocialized and tended to bite and scratch without warning.
As one would expect, I took Myrtle to the vet. The first thing that happened is that no one could find a spay scar on her -- but they figured she was spayed, given her age and former place in someone's life as a pet. I had to convince the MSPCA to give me until summer to figure out whether she was spayed. This was especially important because my vet also told me that she had hyperthyroidism and her teeth needed a lot of work, and until the hyperthyroidism was taken care of, she couldn't have any surgery. The vet thought she might be older than the "11-13 years" from her MSPCA cage tag.
I took her home and after a couple of days introduced her to Spook, my other cat. They had some adjusting to do, but luckily Spook had been well-trained in feline submissiveness by Myrtle's predecessor, Midnight. So Myrtle -- all of 6 1/2 pounds at the time -- was able to establish her dominance over Spook, who was over twice her size. We started her on anti-thyroid meds, with the hope that she'd soon be healthy enough to have some teeth extracted. She seemed to do OK for a while, but then she stopped eating and was throwing up whenever she did eat. She was miserable.
The alternative, when a cat cannot tolerate anti-thyroid meds, is to have it treated with radiation. This is expensive, and requires a 2-week boarding at the facility where it is done. So... $1000 and 2 weeks later, Myrtle came home with a very cute radioactive-sign collar, and a care sheet (primarily having to do with disposal of her litterbox contents, which were considered mildly hazardous waste...) A few weeks later, she had her teeth done and her funny grin was even more amusing as she was down to 2 canine teeth, diagonally opposite each other.
(She never came into heat, so we assumed she was spayed...)
For about a year and a half after that, we had a pretty uneventful life together (well, I got married to deguspice, but Myrtle wasn't perturbed by the invasion of guests.) She liked to sleep with me, had a great purr, and rapidly turned into a little Butterball of a cat. She had a cheerful disposition, except when hungry.
And then she started limping. Her "elbow" joint on the left side started losing range of motion. The vet gave me PT-like exercises to do with her, but the joint got more and more stiff and swollen. Eventually, she couldn't touch her paw to the floor, and was limping around on 3 legs. After several weeks and many X-rays, it became apparent that she had some sort of bone cancer in the joint. There were little bone spurs everywhere and they were getting worse... so, just before Arisia 2003, her leg was amputated.
She came home (right after Arisia) with a big incision and a missing leg, but a very healthy attitude. When the biopsy results came back, it was not good news. She had some sort of cancer that is common in dogs but almost unheard of in cats, and dogs who had it typically lived no more than 6 months.
And today is December 15, one month short of 3 years since her leg was amputated. Clearly Myrtle did not read the biopsy report!
But... she was still an old cat (one vet, recently, told me he thought that she was at least 19 or 20, but it's very hard to tell.) She lost a few more teeth (including another canine), and while she was quite mobile for a long time, the joints in her remaining front leg were swollen and sore, and she developed a nasty looking sore on one of her back legs, which may have been another tumor. Eventually the "ankle" joint on her front leg collapsed, and her "elbow" was getting suspiciously swollen and bumpy, so the cancer may well have returned.
About 8 or 9 months ago, as often happens with old cats, her kidneys started to go; I started her on sub-Q fluids in June. (jim_p very kindly took her in two times when we went on vacation, since he has experience with "kidney cats.") And she started having heart palpitations, which precluded any more dental work. But... she ate, she slept, she purred (except for a brief period this fall when she lost her purr, for unknown reasons), and she seemed generally happy. I had to block the stairs so she couldn't use them, because her balance was getting worse and it was clearly agony for her to come down the stairs (I'd give her the treat of getting carried upstairs to the couch from time to time.)
This past couple of weeks, she was losing weight again, and she was having a very, very difficult time moving around. I think that without the latter, I might have been able to keep her going for another 6 months -- but just getting to the food bowl and the litterbox was difficult for her, and she would stop and rest after being on her feet for a minute or two.
And so... we spent today together; she slept in my lap and purred for several hours, and then it was time. And I still keep looking down to the heated kitty bed under the computer desk, expecting her to be there...