Miss Kitty the inexorable
March 1991-March 2008
I always wanted a dog, but my mom said I could only have a cat, and only after we moved from the city into a more rural area. So when I was 10, we went to the animal shelter to pick out a kitten. While the other kittens purred and played, you hissed and bit my little sister. Therefore, it was love at first sight.
I sucked at picking out a name. I was as indecisive then as I am now! So my dad said you were Miss Kitty, and that was that. Given my first meeting with you, it shouldn't have come as any surprise that you weren't ever the friendliest cat in the world. You bit and scratched my friends when they tried to pet you, and never cared much for my family. But you and I had a mutual understanding. You always stayed where you could watch me, though you rarely solicited attention, and you slept in my bed every night.
When I left for my first try at college, my mom said that you meowed at my bedroom door every night. Every time I came home, you ignored me for a day and then it was back to normal. Sometimes my mom would complain about you, saying that you were urinating outside of the litterbox. I told her you needed to go to a vet, but she wasn't interested. When I had to transfer to a school closer to home, I took you in, though I wasn't supposed to have pets in my apartment. I took you to the vet, who treated you for the UTI that you had probably had for quite some time, and everything was great.
During this time, I had decided that I wanted to go to vet school, and after graduation with my first BS I moved down to Florida. I couldn't take you with me at first as I was moving in with a relative, but I said that as soon as I got my own place I would. It took me about a year, wherein my mom began complaining about you peeing in the house again. I was working as a tech at a clinic, so when my sister finally brought you down from Pittsburgh to Orlando for me, I brought you in right away and we ran a CBC/chem and UA. Of course you had another UTI, but your BUN was mildly elevated as well. You were 14, so I can't say that I was particularly surprised. I started feeding you k/d and NF, and we kept an eye on your blood and urine chemistries.
I brought you with me to Davis, and continued to monitor your bloodwork and urine. Gradually you started eating less and less, and sleeping more and more. The vomiting became more frequent. You were never an overweight cat, but I started to be able to feel more bones through your skin. Your creatinine and BUN were creeping up there, and we couldn't get the UTIs to stop recurring. We ramped up the treatment to include subQ fluids and famotidine to control vomiting. You hated this, but you tolerated it, and still seemed as "happy" as you had ever really been (not particularly so!), until one weekend in March of 2008.
It was spring break, my boyfriend at the time (whom I lived with) was a first year graduate student and his mother was visiting from Orlando. I was anxiously waiting to hear back from UC Davis after my first DVM application and interview - the first acceptances had gone out on Friday. On Saturday, you wouldn't eat anything. You slept all day, and I could barely wake you. At night, you got out of bed, ostensibly to use the litterbox, and I was awoken by you yowling in the hallway, acting disoriented and confused. All day Sunday I stayed near you as you slept most of the day, and I woke up a lot of times Sunday night to check whether you were still alive. First thing on Monday I brought you to the vet. Your most recent urine culture and sensitivity results had come back, and the UTI was raging despite the antibiotics - the bacteria were resistant. You could barely walk; your hind legs gave out when you tried, and you looked scared. I knew that it was time. I restrained you while the vet inserted the needle into your saphenous vein, and she had barely depressed the plunger before your heart stopped.
Three days later I got rejected. That week sucked.
Sometimes I miss you, you surly little brat!
