Second Day is Worse

Back in January, before Callie got sick, I had made up t-shirts for Mike and I for our first anniversary vacation this May. The t-shirts have Callie's face on them. At my suggestion Mike wore his shirt to bed last night and to work today. I will probably wear mine tomorrow. Last night we fell asleep snuggled up with Callie's image.

This morning I woke up in tears. I felt like my heart had been scratched by over grown kitty claws. Mike held me for a while but he had to go to work. I stayed in bed and eventually got a little more sleep. When I got up I moved around slowly. The house felt empty, it felt raw. And it didn't help that every message I have received regarding Callie's passing sends me to tears.

Luckily I had things to do and got out of the house. Callie was in my heart every step of the way. My mother met me for lunch and some shopping and it was nice to be out and not alone. I separated from her to do food shopping and I could barely look down the baby food isle and cat supply aisle. I was afraid I would start balling over a can of baby food and then have to explain to some stranger that my kitty used to eat it.

Once finished I didn't want to come home. I sat in my car in the driveway and stalled. I knew I needed to go in but it would be an empty home. Eventually I brought the food in and cried at the empty space. I managed to put the food away but not to make any dinner. I did eat most of a bag of nachos, however.

I've been playing with Callie's pictures this evening. I'm making a picture book since I've taken over 200 pictures in her short 5 months. I also burned a CD of those 200 pictures. I'm glad they fit on one CD but I'm sad there was room for 200 mb's more. For some reason I want that CD to be full and complete. Not incomplete like Callie's life was. I also started having trouble looking at the pictures once she got sick. I prefer her healthy, active, and happy. Our old Callie and her daredevil ways.

Her passing has created a deep void in my heart. I know she will always be there. I'm just looking forward to the day when it doesn't hurt as much.

That Horrible Day Arrived

I woke up this morning to find Callie sitting on the rug in the living room, her ears bent forward more so than yesterday. Mike was sitting with her and trying to console her. He hadn't seen her like this and he agreed with me that she was in pain.

We had some pain medicine left over from when she hurt her paw and gave her one. She perked up a tiny bit. She seemed to be in a druggie daze, complete with the munchies. We decided she needed to either be drained to relieve the pressure or put to sleep. Since Mike had to go into work for a few hours we set up an appointment with the emergency vet. Then I waited with Callie sitting next to me. She was struggling to breathe. At one point her head fell forwards, her nose on the couch. When I moved to examine her she perked up but I knew the end was near for her.

We took her for a long car ride to the vet's office. Our normal vet is two minutes away, the emergency clinic we chose was over a half hour. Callie normally shakes when she is in the car, she wasn't this time. Only a slight tremor in her ears due to her breathing issues. We arrived and she was taken in to be examined. We waited anxiously, at our regular vet we aren't separated at this point so it was nerve wracking. A tech soon came in to say the Doctor was a bit delayed but our little girl had a crowd of 17 fawning over her. The vet came in and reviewed the notes I had from our regular vet. She told us that FIP is a horrible disease and she would support us to drain her or to euthanize her. We had Callie come and join us and we discussed our options. In the end we knew we were just prolonging the inevitable. Sure, draining her could help her out but we'd be back here soon, could even be as quickly as tomorrow. With her in our laps we started to cry and asked her to give us guidance. She purred for a second and stayed on my lap. She wasn't shaking, she wasn't nervous. She was ready.

We were taken into a comfortable room and a catheter was placed in her arm. She came to spend time with us before the procedure. We were given ten minutes, we asked for five. She's had FIP diagnosed for over a month, we've been waiting for quite a few weeks for this moment. It didn't make it any easier.

With Callie on my lap the vet came in and gave her the sedation. An active kitten fell limp into my lap. Then the drugs were administered. Mike thinks she was gone before the they were even finished. And then we were left alone with her empty body. The vet soon came back with a towel since cats have a tendency to lose their bladder. We placed the towel under her and petted her a few more times. It felt like a waste to me, she was already gone, her body was not hers anymore. I moved to get up and noticed the towel didn't work, I had a nice big marking on my thigh from her. Mike says's this was a parting gift. I had to run around the clinic to get myself cleaned up.

We entered the office a family of three; we left with red, blotchy eyes, an empty crate, a final bill, and heavy hearts. We were now a family of two. Ever enriched by the love of our little girl. With us for five short months, in our hearts forever.

Afterwards we stopped at Kohl's so that I could change my pants. I wasn't in the mood to shop so after the first two pairs didn't fit and my pants had dried I decided to let it be. We went out for dinner. For the first time in months there was no one to rush home to, no one to be worried about, no one waiting. The waitress was busy and due to that slow but we didn't care. Once finished we rented two light hearted movies to make it through the night.

Arriving home there was no one to greet us. In the back of our minds we were hoping for a miracle but we knew she was no longer in kitten form. Mike is hoping she'll pay us a visit and be our friendly ghost. I'm a skeptic at heart but I hope Callie is able to meet Mike's wish.

I've called out of work for tomorrow. I've had to, I got a flat tire yesterday and had no time to fix it today. I'm tired, I should go to sleep. But I know I will not have anyone eager to climb under the blankets and curl up by my legs. I know that there will be no one hogging my pillow. No back on my head, no butt in my face. My pillow will be lonely tonight.

Frailty Reminder

I was reminded last night how frail Callie really is. It's amazing how easily we get sucked into a sense of hope, even in grave situations as this. Since she was doing better the overall worry was less, the enjoyment was higher; it was wonderful. Then we noticed how much Callie was straining to use her litter. Mike picked her up to check her paws and her breathing became a struggle. We decided that maybe we did want to have her drained again, to relieve some of this pressure for her.

Of course, yesterday was a bad day for her. In the morning I accidentally backed into her and stepped on her. In the afternoon the roomba attacked her. As Mike tells it she was watching the roomba come closer and closer, with a look on her face that said "don't you dare". Well the roomba got her feet and she fled to underneath our bed. Mike got her out and she went on my pillow, and stayed there for quite a few hours.

Then again, last night she came up stairs for the first time in probably a week. Both Mike and I were on our computers and the next thing we know Callie was joining us. Mike picked her up and brought her over to be with him, which she was quite happy to do.

Our vet is open every other Saturday, and a sister vet open on the off Saturdays. Our vet is not open today. I could have called the other vet to inquire about draining her, it just didn't feel right. Callie is such a complicated case that I wanted my own vet's opinion. Yet she seems to be having a miserable day and I'm wondering if this was the wrong decision. She's been camping out in the sun, just resting all day. It's normal for her but something about her face tells me she's not having a good day. Maybe you can see it:


There is one perk to having a sick cat: easy to take pictures. She was sitting like this in the sunlight and I thought it would make a good picture. I ran upstairs, grabbed the camera, ran downstairs and took three shots of her. In her healthy days she would have been gone by the time I came back downstairs.

Good Spirits Continue

I find it amazing that she is doing so well on this day we had thought we would lose her. She finished all her dinner and even started eating her dry food this morning while she was waiting to be fed. It was snowing outside where I live and I ended up sleeping in. Callie came back to join me and as I finally started moving she became interested in the moving sheets. The next thing I knew she was under the blankets with me, snuggled into my body.

As I was eating breakfast I felt two little paws on my leg. I look down and there is Callie, wanting to be with me. She hasn't been interested in my breakfast in a long time. She jumped up, with some effort, and snuggled in. It made it very hard to move her to continue getting ready for work.

I am now wondering whether she should be drained again. It was a horrible experience the last time but the fluid is right now affected her mobility, her breathing, her comfort. I know in FIP cases the fluid could come back to current conditions tomorrow, or she could have a few days of peace before it builds up again. I'm not quite sure what is best for her.


On other good news the photographer that took Callie's pictures has a few sneak peak's on her blog (http://web.mac.com/cordelephotography/iblog/). Here is the overall favorite so far:

After another nerve wracking drive home I opened the front door to find nothing. Walking in I didn't see Callie, or any signs of her. After two, very long minutes I saw her rounding the corner, scratching on her post. She must have been on my pillow and this is why she didn't greet me. Relieved I picked her up but she wasn't having it. We went into the kitchen where I noticed she ate most of her food from the morning. I gave her some more and she heartily ate up. Then she waited around for her baby food, which she ate up as well.

I settled in and soon found a kitty staring at me, meowing a hearty meow. She just ate so I knew she wasn't hungry. I sat down on the floor and noticed my little girl was purring. She was either meowing for attention or meowing out of pain from her purring, I'm not sure which. It did break my heart to feel her purr be a wet, congested purr.

I made myself dinner and sat down on the couch. She curled up on my lap. And stayed. I had to greatly disrupt her in order to put my dish away. When I returned she claimed my lap again and would not let me even lean forward to drink some water! I was left to the mercy of the television for entertainment and it was not fulfilling.

Finally, at 9 pm, she moved. Even though I was in the middle of a show I like I instantly got up and stretched my legs. I am now upstairs, trying to get some stuff done. She's downstairs. I know she's sitting on the rug and waiting. She'll just have to wait until tomorrow when she will have her daddy around all day.

Apparently I was wrong. She is now on the couch, in my spot, waiting very impatiently by the remote. I think her face tells it all:

Around the Corner Yet Again

Last night we thought the end was upon us. Callie curled up with us in bed and her eyes seemed dull, her breathing was labored, she was not happy. We loved her up but no purrs from her, just a smile on her little face. We decided that Friday would be the day. It took me so long to fall asleep, especially with tears in my eyes.

This morning I woke up with a tail in my mouth. By the time I came out of the shower Callie was moving around and interested in us (or food, it was probably the food). We fed her a little bit and she ate a small portion. Then she stayed around for "desert", her baby food.

Then again maybe Friday isn't the day.

Hard Decisions

Callie has not had any more accidents. Having a newspaper covered litter pan seems to be working out for her. However she can't "cover" her mess with newspaper so her paws continue to get dirty and need to be cleaned.

She spent the majority of the day on the couch, in one spot. She would change position but stayed in that same spot for over four hours. Besides a brief sniff of my dinner there is not much life being exerted out of her. She spends most of her time staring off into space. Her breathing is shallow and faster paced. Her quality of life is very low.

She's still eating but it's very small. Since she hasn't been following us like she used to she's not following us into the kitchen to eat. In fact I don't think she's been upstairs in a couple of days. The second floor of my home is where my computer is, she usually joins me when I am here. She hasn't been.

Everyone keeps telling me that we'll know when it's time. We keep wondering if this is it but we are not sure. I keep hoping she'll make the decision for us. She still eats, she still fights us when we give her medication, she hates having her paws cleaned. But is she really here with us? She's barely interacting. She went from a young, playful, kitten, to a geriatric cat.

It will be better for us once she's gone. We can do heavy cleaning to remove all the urine stains and any traces on the coronavirus. We can go out on evenings or weekends and not be worried sick about our sick cat. We can think about adopting again, hopefully with better longevity. But what is best for her? I am stuck on the same issue again and again: I can't end her life without knowing it's what she wants. I can't have her die because it's convenient to me. But I also can't have her live with fluid in her lungs, no energy to play, no energy due to not eating, due to the virus.

My next pet will be taught English. Just enough to aide us with these awful end-of-life decision.

Driving home from work is the most nerve wracking part of my day. Without even thinking about it I find my breathing accelerated and a caffeine-like jitter come over me. Today's drive home felt particularly long, when in reality it was one of my shortest commutes to date (for the record I have no idea how that was possible). I worry about what I will find when I come home. Today I was also worried what messes I would find.

Luckily I came home to nothing to be worried about. There was no urine messes that I could find. Callie was waiting for me and wanting to eat. Then she wanted to cuddle. I sat down on the couch for two minutes in the middle of cooking and she climbed onto my lap and cuddled. I would have stayed but the stove was on, I didn't think that would be a good thing. Later on I returned to join her and wrapped myself around her. Her little head came forward and she rested her neck over my arm.

I enjoy our time together but most kittens don't spend two hours curled up on their parent's lap, awake, not leaving. And her breathing appears to be faster than normal.

Dark Days are Back

Today things are not looking good. Her litter issues continue. When I got home I went downstairs to check on her litter only to find that she went on some Styrofoam. Consequentially I noticed footprint images on the floor. I realized some major cleaning is going to be done when all this is over. I picked Callie up and noticed her paws are a yellowish tint. I used one of her kitty wipes to clean her up but nothing was leaving. I planned on cleaning her with soap and water later.

Grabbing the peed on Styrofoam I took a short walk to the dumpster to dispose of it. When I returned Callie was curled up on my pillow before I got a chance to clean her paws. I'll either change the sheets before bed or take comfort in the fact that I did clean up her paws, they were just still tinted yellow.

I think pain has also set in. When I first came home I petted her and she tried to purr, but meowed a meow that said "ouch" to me. This might be why my little purr-kitty doesn't purr that much anymore, it must be painful for her. Later, as she was curled up on my pillow, I could hear her breathing, a congested sound echoing through.

She stayed on my pillow for two hours. I wondered at times if she lost the ability to move. Eventually I picked her up to cuddle with me while I watched TV and she was having a hard time getting comfortable and repositioning herself. When I did try and move she didn't want me to leave.

I was distracted from this post and went downstairs to check on her, only to find her up from a litter box visit and a wet spot on the couch. I picked her up but it didn't seem like she was leaking. A quick peak downstairs didn't reveal any obvious puddles (for the record I did see her in her litter box). Luckily the couch is microfiber so I'm sure we can clean it up. I'm more worried about what this means for Callie.

Pillow Buddy

Callie has become my pillow buddy. Or rather, my pillow has become her bed and my head her pillow. She begins the night as she normally does, snuggling with us under the blanket. However, starting Friday night, she'll leave the comforts of the blankets and climb up onto my pillow. Here she circles a few times above my hair and plops her body down on my head. It cracks me up every time and I usually fall asleep with her there. It makes for a stiff neck but it's a stiffness I'm willing to accept.

We've also noticed her breathing is being affected. Mike heard a sound when she breathed and instructed me on where to put my hand to feel it. I placed my hand on her upper side and felt a fluttering when she breathed. The good news is that my head provides adequate leverage against her breathing problems.

Callie is definitely tired after a long weekend. I'll have to see how she is after resting all day today. I hope she'll have some energy when I arrive home from work.

Fighting for Survival

Callie is back to fighting the disease. Her entire behavior today has been better. I think it's her way of telling us not to give up on her just yet. And she's eating more. I traded out her food for a different brand she likes and she ate most of the small portion I set out for her. She also ate a small piece of a tortilla chip and attempted to eat a french fry. Normally I would be concerned about her eating these items but with everything else she is going through why not? Especially if it makes her happy.

She is moving slower, however. Her steps are more calculated, she must be acknowledging the neurological changes that are happening to her. But her spirit is back in full force. When Mike came home this afternoon she came out to great him. In her better days she would always wait at the door for us, whereas in her dark days she wouldn't move. She even came to great us again when we came home after a brief outing to pick up dinner. Most importantly she was displaying her big, black, kitty eyes; a site we have sorely missed.

Yesterday I believed she was telling us it was time. Today she's telling us it's not. At this point, based on how she is today, I'm thinking her body might give out before her spirit. The roller coaster is awful, the ups and downs pulls at the heart strings. But I am happy to gain a few more precious moments, a few more memories, a few more good times with the little kitty that we love so dearly.

Roller Coaster Ride

Last night we decided that it might be time. Callie was kneading Mike's lap and after a short while she was exhausted from the effort. She also barely ate her food from yesterday. Her energy level was the worst it has been. We decided that Sunday might be the day. I went to bed almost hoping that Callie would make the decision for us.

This morning she has more perk to her. I woke up with her back on my pillow and felt that she was going to be lazy. We went into the kitchen and she meowed for some food. I think she ate for maybe 2 minutes, by the time I was done prepping her medicine she was no longer eating. I picked her up and did her medication by myself, which wasn't easy but I managed. She then went to sit in the sun on the window ledge.

A little while later she joined me at my computer, climbed up onto my lap, and tried to get into my breakfast. I moved my food away and she drank out of her cup on my desk (formerly Mike's cup that Callie has claimed for her own). The next thing I know she's trying to scratch my chair. I told her to stop (painful to stop her from doing anything that brings her joy) and she climbed on the back of my chair! This is an old favorite past time of hers, especially eating my hair. Today she sat there for a few minutes and then moved her front paws onto my shoulder and kneaded. It was hard for her since it's a balancing act but she was there long enough for me to take a few pictures.


Now she's sitting next to me, staring out into the room. I'm glad she's showing some energy for the photo shoot today. I don't think Sunday is her day. I'm not hopeful for her to survive longer than another week, especially with her balance being off. It's obvious the FIP has affected her neurologically. She tends to move in short spurts now, sitting often to more than likely regain her composure. Jumping up onto my lap she almost didn't make it. But she's still jumping, she's still moving on her own. She's still with us for a little while longer.

As if this all isn't enough of a whirlwind and emotional roller coaster ride, here is a picture of Mike playing with Callie last night. She wasn't reaching out and grabbing like a normal kitten does, but she was following his motions very intently. You can also see how thin she is becoming if you look at the dip in her neck. Please excuse the chaos in the background.

Waiting Game

The end is coming, we know it now. Her eyes continue to have issues and our vet confirmed that this is a sign of her FIP progressing. She's barely playful and not eating much, not even some of her treats. She spends most of her time sitting. She's not doing much with her eyes, just looking straight ahead. Mike's mom came over and held Callie in her arms. She knew what we were hoping was overreaction, that the end really is near. Our vet has told us to prepare ourselves for putting her to sleep. As for when the answer is when she stops eating and drinking all together.

There are times I want to cry. There are times I'm laughing with her and acting perky. In reality I'm numb. We've known this would more than likely be her future long enough to come to acceptance. I'm fearful that the numbness will fade to harsh reality the day she is ready to leave. I can't imagine holding her as she slips away. I can't imagine trying to stay calm, to give her a peaceful end, and not crying my eyes out.

There is also guilt. Even though I know there is nothing I did to cause all this there is a little birdy in the back of my head, chirping ever so quietly. I keep jamming a cracker down it's throat to keep it quiet. I know one day it will chirp loudly and finally get to me.

The photographer that was scheduled to take Callie's pictures on Wednesday has been nice enough to fit us in tomorrow. I'm so thankful that we'll get some nice pictures of her to frame on our wall once she is gone. I would have liked to catch a healthy Callie but at least I'll have one of her last moments to cherish.

I think she knows her photo shoot is coming. I caught her sitting on the floor in a puddle of light and grabbed a camera. I'm very proud of the end product:

Dark Days Ahead

That awful day is coming. I just know it. My poor girl hasn’t been quite the same in the last few days. She seems to be more skin and bones then she was before. She’s weak, even her kneading is softer than it used to be. She sits around with us and just stares out into the distance.

The worst is her eyes. The spark is gone. She looks at me so intently now. She’s not saying “I love you, fight for me” anymore. I almost want to say she’s telling me it’s time. I don’t have the heart to listen to that notion though! She’s still here, she’s still breathing and walking and eating (although not by much). She’s still my baby.

If anyone finds a magic bean please let me know.

Eye Spy Something Different

Last night Callie gave us the biggest scare yet. We brought her to bed and she curled up with us as usual. A few minute later she stirred and was sitting with the blankets on her back. She seemed to be breathing funny so I turned on the light. For some reason her eyes were now pointed in opposite directions to the side. We sat there with her, petting her and loving her, and one eye returned to normal. The other one stayed and she soon grew tired of all our fuss and moved onto my pillow to sleep. I let her have the pillow and woke up with such a crick in my neck because of it!

This morning her appetite was back, along with her constant chorus of meows for her food. She appeared normal to me however did have the eye issue once again before Mike left for work. I'm home with her now and her eyes are fine in appearance but I'm starting to wonder if she's having trouble seeing or smelling. For the second day in a row she begs for food and I give it to her but she won't move to her bowl. I've had to pick her up and physically bring her over. She'll eat once she's there but doesn't seem to be making the connections.

I'm starting to feel she doesn't have much time left. These changes could just be temporary but her spirit is diminishing. I'm starting to fear that she is suffering and that is the main thing we don't want her to go through. Taking things one day at a time is starting to feel like one hour at a time. As I type she is sitting on my desk, facing away from me, eyes open. She needs her rest and I understand that. It is heartbreaking to see her like this, not playful, not active, just resting.

One Step Backward, Two Steps Sideways

Right now I am an over protective cat-mom. I notice little details about Callie and run with the possibilities. I know I am overreacting. The problem comes when Mike notices something as well. Then we’re either both overreacting or we’re reacting with reason.

Last night we ran out of her antibiotic medication, Clindamycin. This morning we gave her none since her other medicine, Prednisolone, weakens her immune system and we felt she needed her antibiotic in conjunction. I stopped by the vet on the way home and picked up more of the antibiotics. I updated him briefly on her progress and he feels we are using the best medicines to give her the best quality of life.

Mike and I just gave Callie her medication for the day, or rather, half of what she would normally have since she gets her medicine twice a day. She’s not eating her treats and we had to work with her to take her Prednisolone, which is disguised as a treat. I know she ate a little when I came home from work but I can’t say this isn’t worrying us. It was heartbreaking to see her sitting in front of her treats, seemingly breathing erratically, and not wanting to move to eat them. I’m hoping that she’ll be back to normal tomorrow after the medication is in her system. I’m fearful we sent her down the wrong path by not realizing her medication was almost gone. Her eyes seems to have a little less life in them, a little less will; and it’s terrifying. She’s still a cuddle bunny though, trapping Mike very willingly most of the night.

We have a photo shoot set up for her next week. I honestly don’t know if she’ll still be here by then. I’m beginning to fear looking in her eyes and seeing her tell us it’s time to let her go. I know it will happen, I know it will probably be sooner rather than later, I still don’t want to see it. And to think, we’ve just passed the 5 month mark from her adoption. Just 5 short months.

Poo and Birds - The New Ying and Yang

Last night Callie stepped in her own poo. Just one back paw, thankfully, but a pretty messy site of poo and kitty litter. This was found by Mike and sent me into a momentary panic about what I had been wearing while Callie was on my lap, on my chair, on my desk, on my food...

We concluded it was fresh and set about cleaning her up. This is no easy task for any of us and the second time we have done this in a week. Callie was overall a good girl with the exception of clawing her way up Mike's dress shirt and drawing blood. Once clean she went into her cat home to sulk, her back towards us until we gave her some treats (though less than normal since she clawed up her dad). We left her alone only to find her curled up on my pillow later. Laundry will be done tonight!

Just as I'm pondering all the negative reasons why she's stepping in her own poo I get a bit of relief: Mike called to tell me she chased a bird. I haven't seen her active since before she got sick and apparently (I haven't heard her side yet) she ran from the living room to the dining room to stalk her prey. I think she's hungry! Between stalking my dinner last night and now the bird she really should be more thankful for her cat food!

And now, just for fun, my favorite picture from the first day Callie came home:

Late Night Ramblings

Having a potentially terminally ill pet at home changes everything. My interactions with my husband are based around Callie. At night we curl up around the cat as she is generally snuggled inbetween us, under the covers, purring. I rush home after work to be with her. I feel guilty for going out to do the groceries. I even fear that last stretch of a mile before home, afraid of finding her failing or worse.

On the other hand I’m in limbo. It’s a waiting game to see what will happen. And the worst result is the quickest answer. If she gets better it will take a lot more time and it will be slow. But an end is an end. And I hate that I think this way and I know I really do want her to get better. I do, however, want out of limbo. I also want out of the sickening feeling that I am messing with karma by buying too much food for her.

When I arrived home this afternoon I grabbed half of the groceries and could see her through the side window already waiting. Today my husband took away her food after she finished breakfast to try and keep it fresh and I do believe our little girl was hungry. I came in the door and instantly took out her food and she immediately went to eating. I finished bringing the groceries in and as I was putting them away she seemed more interested in my food than hers. When I was finished I took out her baby food and she meowed her little heart out and ate quite heartedly. My dinner was a salad and I brought it upstairs so that I could sit at my desk and eat. Mike was working until close so he wouldn’t be home for hours yet.

Callie came up to join me and her little nose smelled something she liked in my dinner. Thus proceeded a game of Interactive Food Night. I ate, she tried to get into my food, meowing and sniffing. She even managed to get her paw in my plate at one point! Once finished I gave her the plate to sniff and she zeroed in on a leftover piece of shredded cheese. As she was opening her mouth to eat I pulled it away, quite certain that cheese would not be good for a cat! I moved my plate back to the small table behind me and she clawed her way up to my shoulder, reminding me that her nails need to be cut. She sat perched on the back of my chair, reminding me of the days when she was healthy and I would hate her climbing up there since it usually meant the start of “let’s bite mommy’s hair” time. However she didn’t initiate this game, even though my hair is pulled back into a bobbing ponytail, instead she just sat and watched my leftover dinner.




Now she’s mellowed out and on my lap, her tummy swelling enough to alter her usually position. She appears to be breathing normally and I’m thankful for that. I’ve tried to engage her in play but she not feeling good enough to do so. All she wants to do is eat or curl up. A lap cat to the enth degree.

Two Quick Pictures

I thought I would share two pictures. This first one is from yesterday and shows Callie all curled up with Mike while he read the newspaper:

It's not the best picture, since it's from a cell phone, but I feel it's a cute one. As I was looking through the pictures on my phone I realized this is a favorite position of Callie's since I found this one of her with me:

Weekend Update

The entire family took a lazy day yesterday. I didn’t even turn on my computer so I had no time to make any updates. Instead we all snuggled up on the couch, Callie was particularly enjoying her father’s lap for a change.

Sunday morning Callie woke Mike up with paws on his face. We were sleeping in and I think our little girl was hungry. She soon gave up on waking us and went to sit on his nightstand and stare longingly at the window. After her water filled day on Saturday (she proceeded to claim another cup of mine in the afternoon) she was hungry on Sunday. Besides getting up to eat and drink and follow us around she hasn’t been very active. We’ve been trying to engage her with her laser light and she’ll follow it with kitty excitement in her eyes but she won’t attack the light.

At some point early this morning I think I was being sniffed. I remember waking up with a cat face in my own but was so tired I don’t really remember what she was doing. I do remember sharing my pillow with her for a portion of the night. Once we were up she was hungry and interactive with us as usual on a work day. The downside is that I have noticed her belly is starting to bloat again. I fear that by Wednesday, when it will be one week since we drained her, she will need to be drained yet again. I’m not sure the Prednosolone is working. We’ll see how the next two days go and we’ll call the vet on Wednesday, as he originally wanted us to try this new medication for one week.

I wish there was some medication that would work for Callie. She’s obviously not intending to leave us and her healthy appetite shows that she’s still here with us and fighting. There is a new medication that I have been told about that is not FDA approved. Mike and I had made the decision not to try it based on conflicting reports on the medication, now I wonder if it would have been the trick for Callie.

Feels Like a Waiting Game

We are stuck in limbo right now with Callie. She’ll either get better or worse and the worse is more likely. It’s very hard to deal with. One thing positive brings hope. One thing negative brings fear. It’s also hard to type when she has now decided to stop sleeping on the FIP papers our vet gave us and is looking at me. Having decided she was done looking at me she has claimed my water cup for her own. I’ll have to get a new cup when she’s done. And there’s that hope yet again.

Yesterday she was a pig and we were proud of her for that. She ate most of her small can of food and some baby food as well. She needed to have her paw cleaned since she stepped in her own poo and she was not happy about it! The rest of the day she spent either following us around or sitting in my lap. She’s started to have her ears facing the side and I don’t know whether that means she’s in discomfort, if she’s being moody, or if it is something else.

I miss having a healthy, playful cat. I wonder if I will ever get that carefree pet-mom feeling again. I’m afraid I will forever be watching for signs of sickness, either from Callie or from any future pets that we adopt….

Callie has decided I shouldn’t be working on this blog, she is now sitting on my right hand, half on my key board, and twitching every time my hand moves!

Back to where I was – I had to move her, she started typing with her back paw – the fear. I am probably destined to be an over worried mom from here on in. Hopefully I will manage to be “cautious” instead.

I should probably end here; my little girl is eyeing my lap while pouting on my desk. I shall see if she wants to snuggle now even though I do have to get myself a new water cup.

March 14

Last night I began to mourn the loss of my kitty’s personality. She still has some of her quirks but her playful self is long gone. No longer does she play “toe mice” while we try to go to sleep. No longer does she run around the house playing with her toys. No longer does she beg us to throw her toys up and down the stairs. My rascal has been replaced by a sick kitty. It is even harder when petting her. She is skin and bones, just running my hand across her back I can feel every link of her spinal column in a constant row of tiny peeks and valleys.

However this morning she gave us hope, yet again. She was her usually self, begging for food with her whiney little meows. Mike gave her half a can, which she usually takes all day to eat. Not this morning! She devoured about 90% of her food. Following which she was a good girl and took her medicine. Her Prednisolone even fell out of the pill pocket and she still ate it, Mike was laughing joyfully at her. A little while later I picked her up and found one back paw to be covered in dried up poo. She was cleaned up and my husband saw this as a sign of hope. This all seemed to start, in his eyes, when she got poo on her the last time, so he is hoping this is the end of the cycle. I’m just hoping the chicken she ate last night didn’t go through her!

I’m hoping she will be still full of energy and eating well when we come home from work tonight. The main thing that scares me with this disease is that I know she can turn for the worse at any time. One day she could be doing well, the next day paralysis can take over. I can only pray she continues to do well.

Diagnosis - FIP

This blog chronicles Callie’s journey dealing with a diagnosis of FIP, a.k.a. Feline Infectious Peritonis. Simply stated this disease is caused by a mutation of the coronavirus that doesn’t affect 95% of the cats it comes in contact with. Due to the nature of the disease it is very hard to diagnosis and leads to a lot of false promises. There is no one treatment for the disease and it is mostly fatal to cats. To learn more about it check out this site: http://www.vet.cornell.edu/fhc/brochures/fip.html

My kitten, Callie, was diagnosed with a disease called FIP about two weeks ago. It feels like it has been much, much, longer and has already been a long whirlwind. I wanted to take the opportunity to write this down to not only help myself but hopefully help someone else that is going through this. It all started the end of February when Callie started eating and drinking less. She had already stopped being playful but as an eight-month-old kitten we assumed she was just going through a phase. The eating issue made us worried and we brought her to the vet. I ended up taking time off from work to bring her in since our concern began to escalate and she was just plain miserable.

Feb 26: first vet appointment. I brought Callie in to see the vet. He took her temperature and she had a high fever and was dehydrated. They gave her some fluids via a shot under her skin and gave her some medication. They also took some blood to run some testing.

Feb 27: I was home from work and Callie was not eating or drinking at all. I called the vet back and they hadn’t gotten her test results yet. When I mentioned that my poor kitty hadn’t been eating they set up an appointment to bring her. At 2:30 I brought her in, she still had a fever and was absolutely miserable, though she did fight me to get into her crate to go. The vet mentioned FIP as a possible diagnosis for the first time, and mentioned that it was generally fatal. Holding onto my kitty as he talked I fought back tears. They wanted to keep her overnight for 1-2 days to hydrate her and medicate her. I knew she needed to go in order to get better but I couldn’t bare having her at the hospital and not at home. To make matters worse, she would be less than a mile away but not with 24 hour care. I was confident she was getting the best treatment but it was still hard for me to leave her there. I cried the entire way home and could barely handle having an empty crate with me.

Feb 28: Mike, my husband went to the vet’s in the morning to visit our little girl. She had a cone around her neck since she was trying to bite her IV off. She tried to climb up onto Mike’s shoulder, a favorite past time of hers. She still had a fever and wasn’t eating much. I left work early that day to stop by and visit her on my way home. The place was almost closing but I got to spend some time with her. She seemed to be tired after a long day. They brought some food out and I got to feed her. It felt great to know that she was eating.

Feb 29: Mike was home and got the call early on that her fever was down and she was eating! She had eaten all the food they left out for her after I left and was doing better. We were both so incredibly happy. Later that day he went to pick her up and learned that her fever was up and down and all over the place but she could still come home over the weekend. We were given medication and a thermometer to monitor her progress, along with some special food to try and fatten her up. When I came home from work she was still getting used to being home again and had her front paw shaved from the IV, looking a bit like a poodle.

Over the weekend her fever went up and down and she eventually learned how to push out the thermometer. We gave her lots of love and attention and tried everything we could to get her to eat. She was her loving self, curling up with us under the blankets when we got to bed, sleeping on my lap whenever I sat for more than two minutes, generally being around us. She wasn’t playful but we knew she was recovering.

March 5: Mike brought Callie to the vet for a check up. Her fever was gone but she had lost .2 pounds. They took some fluid from her abdomen and some blood to run some more testing on her.

At home Callie continued to improve, every day she would gain back an old habit. We started her on baby food as I had learned that some cats like it, she loved it! I opened the small jar, set it on the floor, and she was eating it up as fast as she could. Our little girl was also now meowing at us for food. She was a quiet kitty before she got sick but since she’s been home if she wants food she whines until she gets it. And we were sure to give the little princess anything that would help her out. It came as an utter shock on Friday that the test results were not good news. The FIP diagnosis was more than likely. Mike and I were in disbelief since she was doing so well. We wondered if it was a wrong diagnosis and felt she was recovering and would continue to do so.

The following week I began to join discussion groups on FIP and do research to figure out whether this diagnosis was correct. I collected her test results from the vet and my heart fell when I noticed the results did point towards FIP. At this point we also noticed that Callie’s belly was looking bigger. She didn’t seem to be in any pain but did appear to be in some discomfort. We both had that Wednesday off from work and decided to bring her back to the vet. I wrote down every medication used to treat FIP, every other possible diagnosis, everything that I could find. The vet was kind enough to talk this over with us and we felt reassured that he knew what he was talking about and doing the best for Callie. She was already on Clindamycin for her infection (a liquid antibiotic we have to squirt down her throat two times a day), we added Prednisolone (a steroid in pill form also to be given twice a day) to help her tummy stay small. We also had her stomach drained of fluids to help her feel better, which sounds a lot simpler then what actually happened.

The vet took Callie away to be drained and we talked everything over to make sure we were on the same page. When they brought Callie back she had a towel with her since she was still oozing liquid. We were told they didn’t get that much. We kept the towel around her as the warm liquid continued to seep out. The vet came back in and was happy she was oozing since more of the bad liquid would be leaving her. We put Callie back in her crate and she tried to lick up her belly. As we were paying our bill we noticed she was leaking a lot, we cleaned up a little of it and planned on putter her in the bathroom when we got home. Once there she was still oozing a lot of liquid. We ended up letting her be in the bathroom alone and once she stopped we would give her a bath since the nasty, sticky, smelly yellow substance was all over her stomach, back paws, and tail. In the end it was over an hour later when she finally slowed down enough to be bathed. We quickly gave her a bath, forgetting about the sticky fur on the side of her neck from all the times she fights us with her Clindamycin medication. We dried her off and were relieved that our skinny cat was not as skinny as we feared. She was pretty miserable the entire day and we couldn’t blame her. At one point she followed me up to my computer and jumped instantly up to my lap to shiver. Usually she asks to come up before jumping but not this time. She did appear to move with greater ease and be happy to be fluid free and clean. She even drank some water, which she hadn’t been doing, no doubt probably due to having so much excess fluid inside.

It is now one day after having her belly drained. She’s a little mellower but much more alert. She’s back to meowing for baby food in the kitchen and didn’t want her actual wet food. She did try to get into our chicken dinner. So much that we had to put her in the bathroom until we finished. After I was done I cut up a few small pieces of the chicken for her and opened the bathroom door to give it her. Not only did she eat it all up she even licked the plate clean! We were so happy to see this type of behavior back out of her. At this point we can’t bother with correcting any bad behaviors. We want to give her the best quality of life that we can. If she survives, which we are praying for, we’ll willingly deal with the consequences.