Grief. Loss. Depression.

I have been refraining from posting anything since earlier this Spring. Things were going very well and I was very afraid of jinxing it.

One of our cats, Rusty, developed a serious case of stones in his bladder, which caused him to be unable to urinate.

Being the clueless types when it comes to diagnosing such an issue, we observed his behavior and assumed it was constipation - due to his frequent visits to the box and lack of visible production.

After this had gone on a few days, we got concerned and took him to the local vet hospital. As usual, we got concerned after our local vet had closed for the day - and we did not want to wait till it re-opened the next day.

We arrived at the Vet hospital, and after the usual red tape of signing in, we were shown to an examination room. The orderly immediately diagnosed the issue as a rock hard bladder.

This stunned us - since it was something completely unexpected. Luckily, they were able to take him into the back and using a catheter to relieve the pressure.

They called us the next day and informed us that XRAYs had shown multiple stones in his bladder, and one had blocked his urethra completely.

They asked us if we agreed to proceed with surgery, with euthanasia being the only other alternative. Of course we agreed - w/out any hesitation whatsoever.

They called us back and let us know the surgery went well - but were going to keep him another day for post-operative observation. We had brought him in on a Thursday, and we were able to bring him home on Saturday. They figured that the issue was due to his dry food diet and not getting enough moisture - so it as a strict wet food diet for him from then on.

Due to the surgery, he was restricted to a non-clumping litter box filler, so we bought "yesterday's news" which is created from recycled newspapers.

To keep the other cats from abusing the box and eating his food - Rusty took up residence in my Den - where he would spend a good deal of time during the next three months.

The Thursday following his arrival home, we noticed him laying funny and kicking his back legs and crying. We immediately bundled him up and took him off the vet hospital again.

Again, he was diagnosed as having a blocked bladder - one of the stones had been missed from the surgery the previous weekend and re-blocked him.

At this point, there was one other surgical procedure available - PU as it is termed, or the removal of his penis. This would result in a larger opening for the eventual passing of the stones and in most cases, solved the issue completely.

Again, we immediately agreed to the surgery and I sold some employee stock shares to cover the cost, since our income tax refund was already consumed by the previous surgery.

I wish Rusty could have been covered by our family healthcare plan, he met the amount of our personal healthcare deductible in one week - an amount which took us nearly six months of routine doctor visits to meet...

Again though, there was never any hesitation on our part, I had plans to spend some money ont he Harley this riding season, but they immediately took a back seat to looking after Rusty.

When Rusty came home from that surgical procedure, he was wearing an "e-collar" or Elizabethan collar to prevent him from working over his incisions. This collar was supposed to only need to be worn for 7-10 days at which point we'd be able to remove it.

Wearing the collar necessitated us making some changes, such as substituting a dinner plate instead of his usual bowl for wet food - since the collar would push the bowl away from him.

With the dinner plate, he was able to successfully angle the collar so that he was able to eat.

The collar did require frequent cleaning - both of food residue and other bodily functions...

The first night he came home, I was extremely tense until he went into the box and I could hear the sound of him urinating, a sound that brought me more joy than I would have previously imagined...

As the following Thursday drew near, we held our breaths, since the last two had ended up with us running to the emergency vet. That Thursday came and went uneventfully with a sigh of relief..

The 10 day mark came and went - and we decided to keep the collar on him since when we would remove it - he'd immediately go after his incisions and pull at them, growling all the while.

All told, he wore that collar for almost a month until it was decided at a follow up appointment that he could have it removed for good.

With that news, we were able to place the lid back on his catbox, since with the collar in place, he had difficulty navigating the opening to get in the box - and once inside, was unable to turn around with the extra width of the collar banging into the insides of the lid.

With out the collar, the next month and half or so went very well - Rusty was allowed out of the den to mingle with the other feline residents, some of which treated him like a stranger (due to his isolation) and growled when he got near.

Eventually, the growling subsided and he was almost fully integrated back into the fold, except that he still slept in the Den at night and received his meals in there, while everyone else continued to eat dry.

I wish the story at this point ended with "and they lived happily ever after", but that is for fairy tales, not real life.

Last Friday (June 25) I had taken the day off from work and we planned on spending some time with Julie's Mom. The day started off like many before, I got up during the wee hours to give Rusty a snack and returned to bed. (For the previous 2 months or so, I had been getting up at about 2-3am to feed Rusty) Later that morning, he continued to eat well and finished off his first can of wet food. The second can would wait till we came home from our visit - at which time I expected him to be very hungry - as usual.

Our visit with Julie's Mom went well - and when we arrived home, it was time to feed the cats. Rusty was not on the main floor with the rest of the cats, so we called to him. Nothing.

I went into the basement - found him there - and brought him up into the Den for his wet food.

I set him down on the floor, and opened the can - and he just lay there - disinterested.

He then cried a few times - and I went into instant panic mode, calling for Julie to get dressed - we were headed for the vet hospital.

My first thought was that he had blocked up again, since this behavior was similar to how he was acting that Thursday after he first surgery. We hustled over to the Vet hospital and arrived at about 8:30. They were surprisingly not very busy, and we were able to get an orderly to check him out while we were still going through the sign in paper work.

We were told his bladder felt fine, and his temperature was normal.

Previously, we had taken him in for a false alarm - since he was not eating regularly, and it had turned out to dehydration. We were hoping that this was all it was this time.

They conducted a blood test and took xrays, and they both came back negative.

We left him there for them to try to figure out what was going on, and to see how he would be after an IV drip.

The next morning (Saturday) they called us with an update that he seemed fine, but still was not interested in food. They told us they would call back that evening with further news.

We had made plans to attend the wedding of one of our friends that afternoon, but since it was over an hour away - we did not want to be that far from the hospital in case something turned up.

We did not hear from the hospital for the remainder of the day, and assumed that no news meant good news.

We were very wrong.

We received a call the next morning that Rusty had a problem, he still was not eating and his temperature had lowered, plus, he had weak pulse in his hind legs, and they were turning blue.

As you might imagine, this was a complete shock to us, since we had been under the impression he would be coming home that day. Extreme worry set in - and we made plans to visit him at the hospital that evening when Julie came home from working all day.

During our visit with him, he looked to be in worse condition than when we had brought him in two evenings prior - and was almost continuously growling. (from pain?)

The doctor in charge of him was honest with us, and told us that he was in pretty grim shape, and that they were very concerned he had a blood clot - or maybe multiple clots.

After visiting with him - we made plans to return after work on Monday, in the evening.

Monday morning Julie called to see how he was doing, and was told that his condition was worsening - he had no reflexive movement in his hind legs and still was not eating.

This really devastated us.

Practically in tears, we went to visit him last night - for what would be the last time.

Our vet/doctor had told us he would be at the hospital sometime after 7pm when he wrapped up his duties at the clinic. So we arrived at 6:30 to get in some time with Rusty alone before he was due. Normally, visiting hours end at 7:00, but we were told that we could take as much time as we needed. Two hours later, the doctor finally is able to show up and we had a long talk with him concerning Rusty's outlook. The news was very grim, even if he was able to recover, he would probably not have 100% use of his legs and might be in pain the rest of his life. On a worse note, there was the possibility of complete blood loss to the lower legs and having them atrophy.

It was time to make that decision that all true pet lovers truly agonize over, one that puts the needs and comfort of the pet over their own emotional needs.

Considering the slim possibilities of his recovering and strong possibility of his continuing to suffer, we consented to euthanize. There are few situations for a pet owner that is more depressing than coming home with an empty pet carrier - or worse yet, a signed copy of a consent form to euthanize.

That was last night, and as I write this, the tears are still fresh in my eyes.

I do find that writing about this acts somewhat as a catharsis for my grief, and I write this as a memorial to Rusty, one of the most lovable souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Where ever you may be Rusty, we miss you and someday hope that we will see you again on the other side...

Rusty enriched our lives for almost 9 years, and if we had a chance to do it all over again back in 2001 by adopting him - even knowing the eventual outcome, we would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Rusty gave us unconditional love and never asked for much in return - and for that, we will always be thankful.

Rusty will live on in our hearts forever - he will never be forgotten and will always be missed.

Rusty, may you rest in peace...