Hello all.  Sadly I have to report that my sweet foster kitten Brumley is gone. 
 I know that so many of you championed his cause and helped me with his very 
intensive care that started the minute I took him home from the "condo" at the 
store on Dec. 22.  I so wanted him to be a success story and in a way, he was.  
His story was about not giving up, even in the face of impossible odds and 
other vets writing him off as having FIP and then not wanting to continue 
forward with alleviating the pain his affected eye was causing him.  But my mom 
and I kept going and by the time we got to our 5th vet, we found someone who 
was willing to keep working on Brumley and in the meantime, alleviate the pain 
his eye was causing him- which he did and Brumley's quality of life increased 
and I thought he might make it.  He didn't stop eating and drinking until the 
18th of Jan. and that is also when he became ataxic.  But he never stopped 
interacting with his environment and doing the small little things that he 
wanted to do- like continue to walk around, even tho he fell sometimes- that 
never stopped him, hang out with the dog whom- he loved, sniff things, curl up 
on me and purr, bird watch, family wathc, and try to eat soil from the plant, 
etc.  He never stopped purring either until the very end.   I was worried that 
with Brumley I wouldn't know when it was time.  And his vet even said to me 
about 5 different times that he would "drag his feet" on this one because he 
loved Brumley's grey and white coloring and the way Brum was such a trooper and 
would just not give up at all!  So I worried that if the vet drags his feet, 
and I drag my feet, will we keep a cat going who is suffering?  But that didn't 
happen.  I don't believe Brum suffered much, if at all.  He was perky last 
night and purring away in a cat box he found the other night- after somehow 
making it all the way up the steps to the housecats room and climbing in it!  
He had started to fight me a lot with syringe feeding (which I have done since 
Jan. 19th) and the subqu fluids- also since the 19th.  So I was concerned that 
the fighting- which he had never done before- was either a good or bad sign.  
But he was fine last night- he got his two prednisones and it was my typical 
evening of treating, medicating, feeding, and babying The Brum.  But this 
morning, he was not standing up in his crate and looking around and meowing- 
which had become his usual morning routine.  He was laying flat and my mom 
thought he had already passed.  His little front paws were gripping the crate 
and I had to pry them off- he was obviously in respiratory distress- as this is 
my 3 time since Monkee died in my arms in July to see this, so I know the signs 
b/c I live in fear of them.  He was craning his neck like he was trying to 
breathe and his breathing was rapid.  So I threw on clothes and we rushed him 
out to the emergency clinic- the same one that also took my Possum on the 22 of 
Jan.  Brumley's regular vet wasn't in until 9 today and he had surgeries 
scheduled, so we couldn't go there.  Which I think is good b/c when I saw his 
vet, I would have started balling instead of being composed and I just think it 
would have been a mess for both me and him b/c he really liked this cat.   The 
emergency vet said it was grave.  Clinically, he was dehydrated (despite my 2x 
day fluid treatments), his liver was failing, she suspected kidneys were next, 
she found granulomas throughout his body (other places besides the eye), his 
temp was down again to 94, and she strongly suspected brain damage.  She said 
he was definitely dying and whether it was dry FIP, Toxo (which she doubted), 
or she proposed a very severe fungal infection-- either way, none of it was 
reversible and everything that could be done for the cat had been done.  It was 
definitely time.  Which I already knew when I decided to take him out there.  I 
was with him.  Brumley was so bad off that the ER vet couldn't get a vein, 
couldn't get the juglar and had already decided to euthanize with a shot to the 
heart.  He was even less alert than Possum was when we did this with him, so it 
was definitely the right time- he just crashed so fast and so hard in light of 
how he was last night.  Since the shot went to the heart, Brumley left this 
world very quickly.  The vet gave me a hug and told me I did a good job.   
Honestly, I am exhausted.  I have been doing very intensive care on Brumley and 
it has taken up all of my mornings and my entire evening.  I would get up, take 
care of Brum, go to work, come home, take care of Brum, go to bed, and it would 
start again the next day.  So mentally and physically, I am just worn out.  But 
I know that- especially being a foster cat- Brumley got more care and better 
care than he ever would have if I had not intervened.  In his short, sad little 
life, he never got frustrated, he never got mad and I don't really think he 
knew he was sick, but he definitely knew love and had things in this world 
that- for a very brief time- made him happy and made his existence better.   I 
have offered his body to his vet who's been treating him since Jan. b/c he had 
a special interest in Brum and I wanted to make the offer in case he wants to 
do a necropsy or just take a look at the eye.  So maybe we will get some 
answers, maybe not.  If he doesn't want to do a necropsy, then I will leave it 
at that.    Thank you to all who cared and helped me with Brumley's extremely 
difficult case.  Oddly enough, I had a dream about Monkee last night and I 
haven't dreamed about him in a while.  Yes, I think about him every single day, 
but he hasn't visited me in a dream as clear as he did last night in a long 
time.  As soon as my mom woke me up to tell me Brumley was not doing well, I 
knew it was time because I think Monkee came to me to tell me it was time and 
he was coming to take Brumley home. Caroline K.       

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