Then, a few days later our kitty, Kaos, who was nearly 17 started having trouble moving. Definitely a down. He all of a sudden lost the use of his left side and was unable to stand on his own. I suspected a kitty stroke. The vet was closed by the time we realized something was wrong and so we tried to make him comfortable and see how he was the next day. When I tried to call the following day the vet was closed for the day. I was able to get some "food" in him by mixing some tuna with water which he went crazy for. He seemed to have a bit more energy but was still unable to move on one side. We tried to help him eat/drink and go to the bathroom. I gave him more snuggles than I have since my sons were born. He was purring alot which seemed like a good sign but he felt so skinny and you could tell that he was frustrated with being unable to move.
My 4 year old son was worried about Kaos and put his special baby blanket on him to help him feel better. He made a little bed with couch cushions and tried to give him toys to play with. It was so touching to see my little man caring for the cat. I haven't cried quite as much as I did this week for a long, long time.
Finally, yesterday I took Kaos to the vet and had him put down. The vet explained that there was likely liver and kidney failure and it seemed like Kaos was having some trouble breathing. He had lost over 1/2 his body weight from 4 years ago. Giving the okay to put him to sleep was one of the hardest things that I ever had to do. The night before, my husband and I had a long discussion and decided that if the vet didn't think that there was something that could be done to help him get better, really better and not just keeping him alive for us, we would let him go rather than watch him suffer any longer. I was there the whole time (the vet told me that he would know that I was there and he was loved) and hugged him and kissed him even after he was gone.
When Kaos was a kitten he used to love to play and would hide my panties all over the house for us to find. He was a huge cat (18 lbs) who would almost fetch (he only brought the ball back half way), and loved to chase away any dogs that came too close to our house. He loved to go outside and occassionally brought some friends home to visit. My sister called him a "dog cat" because he was never the aloof, snotty creature that people often assume cats to be. We would often get compliments on how handsome he was with his "tuxedo" coat. But, he was really a big suck and would even snuggle on my belly and purr to the baby when I was pregnant.
We will bury him in the back yard in the spring and mark his special spot.
I dreaded having to tell my son the news especially after how he had been helping the cat all week. How do you tell a 4 year old that one of the family's pets was dead? Later in the evening, my son made a comment about the kitty being sick. "This is it," I thought. I explained that the kitty wasn't sick any more and that I took the kitty to the vet and she helped the kitty go to sleep and he was with God in heaven now. "Oh, Kaos is dead" was all he said and went on playing. He asked a few questions about heaven and God but was surprisingly calm. I don't know if he really understands or not but I was expecting him to get more upset and to have to explain a little more about death. Maybe 4 is still a little young for a child to truly grasp what happened. We will see if there are more questions over the next while.
Goodbye Kaos. We love you and will miss you big guy.
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