Tag: cat dementia

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Splodge, the bestest cat ever

Splodge looking beautiful

Splodge wanting her belly rubbed

Splodge on her lead outside

Splodge waiting for food

Splodge up close

It was the end of an era yesterday. A 20 year relationship ended with a single needle. Splodge, our eldest cat was put to sleep. Splodge was 20 years old this year. Splodge was born in my basement closet at my Mum's house. Five white kittens born to a rare long-haired orange female cat in a closet in Oakville. They were all a mistake. Splodge's father was only seen once, he was white. Where he came from I have no idea. I didn't know that those white kittens would have such a huge impact on my life. Homes were found for all but three of the kittens: Splodge, Fuzzypeg, and Petrol.Splodge had a splodge of orange fur on her head when she was little. Splodge became very ill at around four months old. She was taken into the vet I worked for at the time. She was not expected to live. I visited her every day, even on days off just to be with her, talk to her. The two of us became bonded. She was truly my friend. Splodge and Fuzzypeg came with me when I moved out. They were two beautiful long-haired white cats that each had their own personalities. Fuzzypeg was the pretty, demur one while Splodge was the more down to earth tom-boy type. When I was in Toronto I would sleep with one in each arm all night. Splodge and Fuzzypeg always new when I was upset, when I needed them and only asked to be loved, fed, and for a clean litterbox. If I hadn't cleaned the litter box they would tell me off by peeing in my dirty laundry. Life happened and they made many moves to various places but eventually ended up back home. My two girls came with me. Unfortunately Fuzzypeg ran away and was never found. She has been in my thoughts regularly since she left. Splodge mourned but continued on like a trooper. When we got Sprogget she perked up and they became good friends. Splodge and Sprogget made more moves and watched other cats come into the household. Splodge never ever made a fuss. She always put up with them all. Splodge was almost lost to fatty liver disease a few years ago. She pulled through once again despite the vet's prognosis. .Over the past year we have watched her go downhill steadily. Her kidneys got weaker, she couldn't clean herself anymore, and gradually she appeared to forget things such as she was in the middle of eating. Her latest thing was to come downstairs in the middle of the night. She had never done that. She always sleeps by my head or beside the bed, unless something is wrong. Despite this she still had some spunk in her, it was just interspersed with several hours of sleep. Both of us knew this day would eventually get here. On Sunday night I saw a final change in Splodge and just knew her time was close. On Monday morning she had gotten a bit worse, but still came downstairs for breakfast and trundled back upstairs to sleep. By Monday evening she seemed stable. Tuesday when I woke and looked at her I knew we would have to have our vet come. I made an appointment for Thursday afternoon. Tuesday night Splodge was having extreme difficulty walking. She didn't seem to be able to reach her food dish and at one point I found her lying down in the litterbox, not able to get up. I brought her back to a her blanket ad gave her some watery food. She was dehydrated, not a good sign. She did eat a lot of the food, but her body was shutting down. Kate needed to come earlier. She seemed to be seeking out hiding places, a common behaviour for animals close to dying. Splodge was ready to go. I called Kate on Wednesday morning to come over later in the afternoon. Much of my day was spent going up and down stairs to bring Splodge food and just to check on her. When I stroked her it seemed to agitate her so I just let her sleep. Kate arrived while doing chores. Tim cam out to get me and I picked up the eggs and came inside. We went upstairs to where she had been lying all afternoon, she could no longer walk. I collected her up into my lap on both a blanket and towel. I nestled her into the crook of my arm. At this point she really couldn't move at all. It had been only two days beforehand that she was walking down the stair for breakfast. Kate got out her needle and injected a sedative. I felt Splodge release her weight in my arms. Slowly she relaxed. Her head became relaxed, I supported it in a hopefully comfortable position. Tim and I thanked her for being such a great friend, companion, and that we were honoured she had been part of our life. We told her we loved her. We hoped that she would see Fuzzypeg wherever she was going. I stroked her. Tim stroked her. Her breathing slowed, slowed, slowed, then she went limp. Splodge had now became a cat-shaped beanbag in my arms. Kate checked her heart, it was very weak. She checked cornea response, nothing. She checked Splodges heart again, it had stopped. I sat and looked at her for a moment. She was gone. It broke my heart, but my heart was also with joy that she was no longer in pain. I hated seeing her in pain with every move she made. That was excruciating to watch.