On the heels of one tragedy rides another. Today I lost my beautiful Dusty Elizabeth to gastric lymphoma....
Dusty had been gradually losing weight for some time. An ultrasound in November was unremarkable, except for some thickened bowel loops, so I decided to treat her conservatively for inflammatory bowel disease. She responded well to prednisolone and initally gained some weight back. We decreased her pred dose and she maintained for a few weeks but then started to lose weight again. Around the time we lost Bagheera, Dusty had some intermittent vomiting and inappentance, but it seemed to resolve, so I thought it might have been due to the stress of losing a family member. This past week, she started having vomiting episodes and a poor appetite, as well as noticeable weight loss. We ultrasounded her on Thursday and discovered a large (3cm!) mass in her stomach. We took some fine needle aspirates and sent them out to the lab that evening. Dusty recovered from her sedation and ate well as though she was making up for the past week. The results came back Friday morning as lymphoma so I started her on chemotherapy that afternoon. Friday night she vomited everything she had eaten that day. I treated her with anzemet and SQ flids-Saturday she seemed like she might be starting to rally, but that evening, she seemed to be starting to lose ground. This morning Dusty was under the bed trying to get comfortable and vocalizing. She came down with the rest of the herd, but was very weak and her gums were pale. I noticed that she had started panting intermittently as well. Based on my experiences, I knew that she was most likely bleeding internally, propbably from her tumor and that the one last thing I could do for her was to let her go before nature took its course. I brought her into work-I think she was actually on her way out when we pulled into the parking lot, but at least we were able to make her transition a little smoother.
Dusty was born on my front step in Akron, Ohio. She was one of four kittens that Samantha (my oldest) gave birth to. Her sister Wiggles died at 6 years of age and her other sister Trouble and brother Boots are still with us. Dusty earned her name because as a very young kitten she liked to hide in the back of the birthing box, like a little dustball. She was always a very lithe little cat and loved to leap onto tall counters, particularly if I had something interesting to eat. Her favourite treat was graham crackers and she was always insistent that I share them with her. One of Dusty's favourite things to do was to lick and chew on plastic bags (although she never tried to eat them) and lick the bathroom blinds. She would always seem to zone out while doing these things, so much so, that I would have to clap my hands just to bring her back to the present. Thus, I called her my "OCD kitty." I also referred to her as my sensitive girl, because every time I lost a feline family member over the years, she always seemed the most affected by it. Dusty had quite the vocabulary-every mew, trill, chirp and coo had some meaning and it developed into a very special means of communication between us. She was also very vocal, earning the nickname of "Loudmouth Louie," because she like to vocalize (loudly) during the wee hours of the morning and would sometimes hop up on the bed and meow in my ear (especially if she thought I was sleeping in too late on the weekend ; ) ). Dusty got along well with the rest of the herd but was particularly close to Samantha and would frequently groom her and curl up with her. Their favourite spot was in front of the fireplace.
Sixteen years is a long time to have forged a bond, and yet it is not nearly long enough. All we can hope for is that we have given our companion animals the best lives possible and that we are able to let them go when it is their time.
Ellen
