A couple of years ago he had been diagnosed with severe arthritis in his knees and his elbows. The vets had said it was the worst they'd ever seen in a cat. We had him on some very powerful meds, anti-inflammatories usually given to dogs, but could be safely given to larger cats. And Mid was a large cat. It seemed to help somewhat.
Then he was diagnosed with a thyroid condition. Got some meds for that. Then a mild case of diabetes. More meds and special food. Then he developed some sort of respiratory ailment, which an x-ray seemed to suggest was due to a possible growth in his chest cavity. Those symptoms seemed to have cleared up, oddly, but then he developed a nasty skin infection, probably due to his immune system being weakened as a result of his other ailments. And that's not to mention the cyst he had to have removed from his back after it burst.
Pictured here with his stylish bandage/girdle after the cyst surgery. Doesn't he look just thrilled to be photo'd in all his glory.
The poor guy. He battled through a lot of problems, and he was a real trooper. Didn't really complain that much. But his various health problems had finally just gotten the better of him. Mostly it was the arthritis. His mobility was going steadily downhill. I found him the shallowest litter box I could, to make it easier for him to get in and out. And even then he sometimes had trouble. I had to build him a "cat ladder" (sort of like a salmon ladder), so he could get up and down off the couch on his own--just an old trunk and a smaller box arranged like steps.
I covered them with towels so his footing was secure. Pretty funny, actually, but effective.
But in the past few months, he really seemed to be having more pain. There were times when he was just unable to get himself up on his feet. And he would complain more. I wasn't sure how, or even if, I'd know when the time had come, but I always told myself that when I sensed his discomfort had crossed the line into pain, it would be time to end his suffering.
It was a pretty tough day. The vet and the staff had gotten to know us pretty well over the past couple of years, and they were so incredibly respectful, gentle and sympathetic. I stayed in the room with Mid and petted him as his body relaxed and he went limp. He looked very peaceful. The walk back from the vet's, an empty cat carrier swinging too lightly from my hand, was about as sad a journey as I can recall lately.
I sure miss the big guy. The apartment seems pretty empty without him. During the week afterwards, I kept turning around at my desk thinking I'd see him sleeping on the couch. Even now, when I come home, there's a split second as I turn the doorknob and enter the room, that I think he'll be there, waiting for me. You sure get attached to those critters.
So long, old friend.
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