Belinda could you please add my beloved Stray to the CLS? Thanks! Thursday 01-26-06 me and Christopher (my husband) got up around 2:00 P.M. with intentions of driving to Owensboro, KY to cash his check and to buy a can of Bright Beginnings baby formula (stocking up for delivery.)
While Chistopher is in the shower I am downstairs loading the dishwasher that turns into sweeping the kitchen floor (I am obsessive-compulsive like that. I have trouble stopping at one chore. They easily roll into two and three, etc.) Anyway, I open the backdoor to sweep out the cat litter that has been kicked out of the utility room litter box when I noticed Stray, my neutered male orange-tabby cat who would have been two (2) years old in March) happily batting at something in the back yard. Thinking nothing of it I step out side to investigate. He had a baby field mouse and it was unharmed! Awww...Stray was playing gently as he always did. No harm done. I picked up the mouse...I had an idea! I raced back in the house, leaving Stray to look for the missing mouse, and made a beeline to the bathroom. My husband was still in the shower. Hehe! "Look! Ain't it cute!" I squealed with a huge smile on my face. Christopher slides open the shower door and just about comes unglued right there! "Why, that's...that's...where the hell did that come from?" He stammered. "And why aren't you dressed yet?" I looked down at the pajamas I still wore. "I was loading the dishwasher." I explained still holding the little mouse. Christopher is clearly getting annoyed really quick. "Put that damn mouse outside were it belongs and get dressed. We are never going to make in to the bank in time! LOL. Grouch! Heaven only knew that was the last happy moment that I would have for several days to come. As we were leaving the house Stray approaches us wanting in the garage to eat. He is an outside cat via day and an garage kitty via night/winter. "We have to let him in." I tell my husband. "He is hungry." "Lora we do not have time!" Christopher barks. "We are already running behind schedule!" I become very angry. If my kids want to eat. They eat! To hell with being on time! Christopher unlocks the door with a huff and Stray walks through the utility room straight into the garage. Did I jsut see Stray stagger? Na! I tell myself. I am just seeing things. Had I know that would have been the last time I would see my baby walk, I would have never left his side! So we close the garage door and lock the side house door. We were off! That was around 3:15 P.M. - 3:30 P.M. We never made it to the bank. By the time we pulled into the parking lot they were locking the doors from the inside out. Christopher was livid because of the mouse and Stray. Little did he know he would come to regret that anger. We arrive back home around 5:00 P.M. to a quiet, normal-looking house. Everything seemed to be fine and in its place, afterall we were only gone roughly two (2) hours. Then I hear it. Meowing. Constant meowing. "Uh-oh." I tell Christopher. "Mason has another milk ring again." Only he does not. Mason rounds the corner at the sound of his name with nothing in his mouth. Okay. It is time to do a head-count then. We open all of the doors to see if anyone had been accidently locked up. Nothing. We count all ten heads in the house. Normal. Then who the hell is meowing? I turn my attention to the garage and shear panic washes over me. There is Stray trying to claw his way off on the pillow. His hide leg are completely paralyzed! He slithers across the room and bile wails up in the back of my throat. I scream and run back into the house. Completely beside myself in hysteria, I cry out for Christopher. All the while poor Stray is just holling in agony, begging for us to help him. It is 5:00 P.M. at night, Christopher is preparing to go to work (working third shift) I am nine (9) months pregnant and I cancled our "emergency" credit card last Friday 01-20-06! Oh, God! I was going to puke! What were we going to do? I race upstairs to find my parents. I scream/cry what I had found. I beg for money. Babbling about emergency clinic...life threating...in pain. My folks come downstairs thinking that the situation was not "all that bad." HA! Mom returns from the garage white as a sheet. It is now 5:30 P.M. and something has to be done! I call Fort Branch (my veterinarian) in an off-hand chance that they would still be open. They were! I try so hard to remain calm as I explained to Kristi that my kitty had hind-leg paralysis, but had not been hit my a car. He was in the garage all day. He even walked into the garage by himself! "How soon can you get here?" Kristi ask. "Now. Can I come now?" I beg losing my composure. I hang up the phone trying to function like a normal human being in a crisis. (Not easy to do.) Christopher lines the carrying crate with pillows to support Stray's non-working hind legs and blankets to keep him warm. I keep telling myself that everything will be fine. He is not in shock, he is breathing, there is no blood, he is struggling/fighting (which is a sign of wanting to live) he has passed a bowl movement, etc. I scoop up the bowl movement and place it in a disposable plastic container. Stool sample. Just in case. For process of elimination purposes. At this point, I can only think in baby steps. My brain will not process anything else. I try to think of how this happened, but my brain shuts down with every attempt. He fell off the cat-tree tower. Cruched pevis? He was playing with a mouse earlier this afternoon. Poisonous mouse? Did the farmers spray their fields today? Antifreeze! Did Stray get into any chemicals? I look. Nothing is out of place. No containers are spilled. My dad offers to take me to the vet's office so that Christopher can go to work. Unfortunately, someone has to drive me for I was too emotional. Plus being nine (9) months pregnant it was not safe for me or for Stray! God, how I resented being pregnant at that very moment! This stupid belly was preventing me from taking care of my baby! Stray was going to die! It takes an hour to get to the hospital. It is now 6:30 P.M. and my baby is still alive. He is in excruciating pain, but alive. I try to relax. We are here. We made it. We will find a way to pay for the surgey. Stray is coming home. The door opens and the Tim (vet tech asks me to come in.) The vet is there. No Stray. I saw two (2) X-rays on the wall lit up and what appeared to be the hind-end of a cat...my Stray. "Kitty is not well." The vet said. "Okay. So what do we do about it?" I ask. "Unfortunately, there is nothing that we can do." My world stoped. I see the vet taking, but I cannot hear him. What was he saying? Clot? Heart condition? Underline problem. Moved into an artery and stopped at the Y junctions of his back legs...paralyzed. All of a sudden I am pulled through a vortex and I hear him say "Saddle Thrombus" a.k.a. thromboembolism. Your kitty has Saddle Thrombus. It is a secondary symptom to cardiac disease. Stray has a bad heart. Aortic thromboembolism, also referred to as saddle thrombus, is a common complication associated with all types of heart disease in the cat. A thrombosis is the formation of a blood clot. An embolism is when the clot lodges within a vessel. It is thought that clots form in one chamber of the left side of the diseased heart. Eventually, these clots break free and travel in the blood vessels until they become lodged or stuck. Saddle thrombi get their name because the blood clot resides at the junction of the aorta and the arteries of the back leg (iliac arteries) and resembles a saddle. Since the iliac arteries supply blood to the back legs, the blood clot cuts off this circulation, and the rear muscles are no longer able to function. "There is no blood circulation to the lower part of his body, the vet continues, I clipped one of his toe nails past the "quick" and nothing. No response from Stray and no blood." "Without blood circulation, there in no oxygen getting to the muscles or tissue. His legs are literally dying." I look at the vet and started to realize what he was saying. Stray was going to lose is his back legs. He basically already had. "Fine, I told him, can you sever the nerve ending to his back legs so he will not have chronic pain with being paraplegic? He has already lost the fuction and mobility of his hind legs. I can deal with that. Just save him!" "We cannot, the vet says. Since Stray has a bad heart he will most likey continue to throw clots. Eventually a clost will go to his brain and ultimately kill him. His heart is nothing more than a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode. You are luck to be able to say good-bye. I am sorry." Euthanasia? Was I hearing what he was not saying?! But I do not believe in euthanasia! This cannot be right! This cannot the only option! No treatment?! No cure?! My baby is dying?! But why? Stray was in so much pain that he could not even focus on my face. He had tore the pillow to shreds out of frusteration and agony. He had cut his gums on the carrier trying to get out. The choice was clear. I lowered my head and whispered to him. I told him what a brave boy he was and that I loved him so very much. I wanted him to stay longer, but understood that he needed to go. I asked if he could see me and for a moment he quit struggling and look straight into my eyes. "Yes, baby. I tell him, the pain stops now. I am going to make it all go away." And at that moment I turn to Tim and ask him to take Stray away. I could not watch. I wanted to hold him while he slept, but he was in so much pain that I was afraid of doing more harm than good. I looked over my shoulder as I left the room, watching my baby one last time. I told him good-bye and then closed the door. Stray was back in my care via 7:00 P.M. It literally only took a few moments. Kristi said she will bill me. I hugged her. I do not know where I would be without my vet! They did not have to see me, but they did...after hours even! We took Stray home and we buried him Friday 01-27-06 beside my beloved Peeper (my 14 month FeLV positive kitty.) After Rafftee passed away back in August 2005 (my horse) I thought I was done with death. At least for a yew years. Funny how it sneaks up on you! Stray was the baby. He was not even two (2) years old and yet he was the sickest of them all. He had a bad heart and no one even knew! Not even me and I am his his mother! I try so hard to remember everything. To be everthing to everyone. To care, love and support each fur-kid individually and yet some still manage to slip in between the cracks. For almost two (2) years I was completely oblivious to my baby's condition. Heart disease. A silent killer. Stray will be forever missed and eternally loved. May he be free of his broken body and of any earthly pain. He is whole again and in a better place. Hopefully keeping Rafftee and Peeper company. Until with me again my sweet baby...my brave boy... In all of my 22 years of rescue I have never once had the happen to ANY of my kitties! I have never even heard of "Saddle Thrombus" until now. Stray was the first for me and hopefully the last. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com
