RE: Belinda, can you please add Caramel to the Candlelight Service

[MacKenzie, Kerry N.]

Title: Message

Thanks for your support, Kathy. I just wish I could have done more--we all do, I guess. Live and learn, right?!

best, Kerry

-----Original Message-----
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] On Behalf Of Kathy Koutsis
Sent: Tuesday, November 30, 2004 12:35 AM
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Subject: Re: Belinda, can you please add Caramel to the Candlelight Service

Kerry,

I'm so sorry to hear about Caramel.  It sounds like you really gave him a lot of love and did all that you could for him...so don't worry about what you could've done.  You did what was in your heart and there's nothing better than that!  I'm sorry this had to happen.  It's so sad.  Take care.

Kathy

"MacKenzie, Kerry N." <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:

My sweet little "foster" kitty Caramel succumbed to the leukemia on the
evening of Thanksgiving Day. He was approximately 1 year and 2 months
old.
What makes his death seem particularly cruel is that Caramel, the ginger
kitty of the little colony of six feral FeLV kitties that I took in last
December, was the most playful of them all---the one who, no matter what
else he was involved in, would immediately rush over to play with the
cat dancer as soon as he spotted it in my hands.
His decline began around July, perhaps earlier. Over the summer my
sweet-faced, fun-loving little kitty became withdrawn and lethargic and
his appetite noticeably decreased. He no longer wanted to play. He
developed a URI. I had a housecall vet come and she put him on a double
course of antibiotics, gave him fluids and showed me how to give them.
But he never ! regained his old perky self. I tried numerous tasty treats
that he once liked---strong, homemade chicken broth a la Anitra Frazier,
broiled chicken, sardines, tuna---but he lost interest in them all. My
litmus test became the Wellness dry food that all six furballs go crazy
for. As long as Caramel still leapt from his favorite bed (where he
would now spend most of his time, facing the wall) when I brought the
dry food into their room, I still had high hopes he would recover. Then
on Saturday morning, November 20, he stopped being interested in even
his favorite food.
I figured it was because he had developed a really bad cold again and
couldn't smell his food. I left a message with the housecall vet the
same morning only to discover on Monday that she was on vacation. I
figured by this point it wouldn't be too difficult/too stressful for him
to catch Caramel so I made an appointment with the doctor at my vet
clinic who has treated two of Ca! ramel's siblings. The earliest
appointment I could get was for Wednesday at 10.20am. I isolated Caramel
in the bathroom on Monday evening, as comfortably as possible, in order
to monitor how much, if anything, he was eating and drinking (nothing,
it turned out) and began hand feeding him with A/D wet food. I noticed
he had begun to smell bad around this time.
On Wednesday, the vet prescribed a 10-day course of Clavamox, and said
to call her if he didn't improve in 5 days. (The pharmacy that makes the
antibiotic 'treats' that I use couldn't fill the order until Friday so
he never actually started them.) He weighed only 5 lb, and needed to
put on 2lb, the vet told me. She couldn't specify what the bad smell was
when I asked--suggested it was a mixture of things--his chronic URI,
bleeding gums, and lack of cleaning himself. (If any of you have any
experience of this I'd be interested in feedback.)
I made the decision on Wednesday evening to no! longer isolate Caramel,
but simply spend whatever time was necessary morning and evening over
the 4-day holiday to catch him in order to assist-feed him. I was still
very hopeful he would recover once I could get him started on the
Clavamox.
I am very glad now that I made that decision, as it meant (despite his
bad odor) that he had the comfort and cuddles and grooming of the other
kitties, in particular dear little "care-giver" Flavia, during what
turned out to be his last days.
He took the food I gave him on Thursday am and pm, but on Friday morning
resisted after a few fingerfuls. On Friday evening I tried feeding him
again (he no longer tried to run away, so catching him was not an
issue). But he made it clear he wanted nothing. And then, right after
that, as he moved from the bed on to the floor I saw that his back legs
were no longer supporting him. He ended up sort of collapsing on the
carpet. I rushed him to the emergency clini! c, and asked them to run
whatever tests were necessary.
It seemed clear from the post-test numbers reeled off by the vet at the
emergency clinic that Carmel's poor little body was ravaged. I'm sorry
to say the numbers and facts are a blur now (and don't appear on the
report), but the disparity between what should be and what was seemed
enormous. The vet said the prognosis was 'poor.'
I didn't want Caramel to suffer any more; I felt he had suffered too
much already. He was put to sleep at 9.10pm as I stroked his little head
and body.
I miss that orange ball of fluff so much---he was once such a perky
little character, with such a sweet little face (which had become thin
over the last few weeks) that I still can't believe he's gone. The image
of him lying on the table of the emergency clinic before he was put to
sleep will haunt me for ever. I am only thankful---boy, am I
thankful--that this year I made no plans for Thanksgiving, and so! I was
able to be with him and care for him in his last hours.
I know that most of you are all too familiar with the above
scenario---many of you several times over. It's a first for me, and
while I want to be optimistic, I do dread to think what may be in store
for his siblings.
I feel now in hindsight that Caramel's quality of life was severely
diminished several weeks ago, and I feel very bad that I kept hoping he
would rebound. I don't know how other people feel about this, but if I
see similar signs in his siblings, and they don't rebound after
medication/treatment, I feel I would want to end their suffering
immediately.
As with many--possibly all--of you, financial resources are limited, and
I couldn't afford to run expensive tests in the summer (not that they
were suggested anyway). But on Friday, when things took such a serious
turn, I threw caution and credit cards to the wind and told them to run
whatever tests were app! ropriate. I wanted to give him every possible
chance.
Part of me wonders still if there was a chance he might have recovered
with treatment. After all, I have no idea whether the vet at the
emergency clinic has empathy for FeLV kitties or not. I had never met
her before. Perhaps she would have said 'poor prognosis' a year ago even
at a time while he was clearly enjoying quality of life. She didn't
suggest any treatment.
Caramel was so thin and so weak, and I was so distraught, that all I
could think was that I didn't want him to spend one more minute
suffering.
Thanks for being there. I know that each of you, more than anyone,
understands.
And thank you Belinda for providing such a comforting service. It means
a lot.
Goodbye, sweet Caramel. You were a much-loved kitty.
Kerry

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