Maybe it was less than two weeks ago, more like 10 days. We took Guinness, my long-haired black cat with a bit of white on his chest and his chin, and my big boy, who still weighed 13 pounds at 19 years old, to the vet for a checkup and perhaps an antibiotic shot for his congestion. The vet at the community Clinic near Eugene, Oregon, was one of the best I’d met in the area. She thoroughly examined him and felt around to ensure he had no lumps or anything weird. They had done a blood panel just a month earlier, and he does have Stage 2 Kidney Disease, which is not abnormal for a cat his age. The vet said we should try giving him food from the Kidney diet because it would help him so much, and he could stay around for a while since it was not severe yet.
The vet and the assistant loved Guinness the Cat, as everyone does. He’s noble-looking with his big white whiskers and how he looks at people. He got the antibiotic shot for his congestion. My boyfriend Savoy and I were so relieved after the appointment because anything can happen in his old age. He did have problems with one of his hind legs, but he was still getting around, still able to jump on the chair and the bed, and on Savoy’s chair whenever he left it. The vet said that arthritis and atrophy were customary for a cat his age. We knew that Guinness the Cat was also deaf, but he was still doing his thing, not going outside much anymore, though just two months ago, he brought a fawn home. The fawn was in front of our house.
So, life went on with Guinness the Cat. He knocked things off the small table beside Savoy’s chair and bed. Sometimes Savoy would build a tower for him to knock over, but we had to be careful because he’d knock everything off that table if given the chance. He became agitated and stared at Savoy’s empty chair because an item of clothing was on it, and someone needed to remove it. As usual, he was upset because I changed the sheets and made my bed. How dare I remove his special blanket and take him off the bed so I can finish making it?
The day before yesterday, he was still doing OK. He was doing all his regular cat stuff, eating a good amount of food, drinking lots of water, and ambling to his kitty litter box with no trouble.
Then, on Monday, something happened, and everything changed for him.
Suddenly, Guinness could not move his hind legs, and he was upset about it, too, yowling loudly as he attempted to move. He could not even make it to the kitty litter box. At about 4:00 am Tuesday, after I finished working my night shift at the computer, he began to cough, one I’d never heard before, and then he’d have trouble breathing. I laid him out on blankets, and he gathered enough strength somehow to jump onto the chair and the bed as he usually would, but suddenly began coughing and wrenching uncontrollably. And he jumped to the floor. I did not sleep as he somehow crawled under the bed where I stored my ukuleles and made some noise. I could not reach him.
That’s when I decided to get him to the 24-hour emergency Vet clinic. My goal was to save Guinness the Cat, my beautiful boy, since 2006 when my daughter Megan was only in sixth grade in California.
I’ve been here all day at the emergency vet clinic. It turns out Guinness the cat has both kidney failure and diabetes, and he would need to be hospitalized for several days to get him OK, and they don’t even know if he would make it. How did this happen so quickly?
I’m not ready yet. I’m not prepared to say goodbye.
But I made that most difficult decision. I held him for over an hour and rocked him, and said I’m sorry so many times.
Now, I can see him running across the rainbow bridge towards a white dog named Sydney and all the others. I cannot imagine my life without him. And Savoy is a complete mess. He will no longer suffer or be in any pain, but man, it hurts like hell right now.
It’s the end of an era. Things will never be the same again.
Fly-free Guinness the Cat. You know how much we love you.
I’m taking him home, and Savoy is going to bury him in the yard that he loves so much.