Sometimes a joyful experience is overshadowed by tragedy, and we are reminded not to take anything for granted. While away on vacation, our beloved Finnegan (aka Finnie) passed over to the rainbow bridge.
I adopted Finnie from clients in 2010 while working at CVRC. They had found him wandering the neighborhood; he was very friendly and came right up to them. He was also ear tipped, so he may have been part of a feral colony, but there was nothing feral about him. They started feeding him and had him checked by their vet, with the intent of keeping him. Their other cat, however, made it clear that she wanted to be an only cat, so they created a flyer and put it up at CVRC to try and find a home. The flyer described “Steve-name subject to change,” and had some cute photos, one of which was captioned: “note the one cute orange toe.” The flyer indicated that if they couldn't find a home for “Steve,” he was going to go to Cat Adoption Team, on July 7 (my birthday).
I had lost both Bagheera and Dusty within 5 weeks of each other a few months prior, and when I saw that flyer, I knew Finnie was meant to become a part of the family: he was orange and white (I have an affinity for orange cats), originally named after a good friend, and scheduled to be put up for adoption on my birthday. I felt like it was a sign from the Universe. I brought the flyer home and told Bob that this was what I wanted for my birthday. We scheduled a “speed date” to meet Finnie, and on July 3rd, we brought him home.
Finnie was our first Oregon kitty, as the cats we already had moved with us from Ohio. He was a quiet, calm, welcoming presence, and the glue that held our clowder together. He loved other cats, and every time we welcomed a new fur child, he would take them under his wing and show them the ropes. He was not a lap cat, but loved sitting next to me on the couch. He also loved people, and would always greet anyone who came over. He was very engaged with us, always looking us in the eyes. Finnie loved to eat, and would be one of the first cats to hop on the bed in the morning, to let me know it was time for breakfast. Sometimes, he'd lay on my pillow, until I got up, and other times he'd sit on the cat tree and lick the blinds, because he knew that would get my attention. I often said that he would would eat until he exploded, and the little bit of extra weight he put on over the years was proof of that.
Finnie enjoyed good health up until April 2021 when he started having vomiting, diarrhea, and a high WBC count. He was hospitalized for pneumonia. An abdominal ultrasound and aspirates revealed lymphadenopathy, and splenomegaly, which was indicative of lymphoma. One option was to have surgical biopsies done, but I didn't want to put Finnie through that, so we opted to treat him empirically for small cell lymphoma.
Finnie was not an easy cat to pill, in spite of his calm demeanor. He would try to push my hand away, and was not a fan of being wrapped in a towel. In order to avoid a kitty rodeo, I ended up getting his meds compounded into microtabs, that I hid in food. It worked until it didn't-he eventually found a way to eat around the micro tabs! When he got pneumonia a second time, I started wrapping him in towel, even though he didn't like it, because I knew it was imperative that he get his antibiotics. I would reward him with treats, until I figured out that I could put treats on the floor, and as soon as he was done eating them, I'd pop his pills in, and give more treats. It worked like a charm.
A couple months ago, Finnie started having bouts of inappetance and fever. We increased his prednisolone, and he rebounded. But towards the end of July his appetite decreased. In spite of this, Finnie still had that spark. An abdominal ultrasound revealed continued lymphatic inflammation, a hepatic mass, and pancreatic inflammation. We increased his prednisolone even more, and switched his appetite stimulant to oral mirtazipine. It didn't help much, and I started syringe feeding him, although I was able to also get him to eat a little on his own. I was worried, because we were going out of town, but in spite of all of this, Finnie was still very much engaged with us, so I felt that we could keep going, and reassess when we got back. Thursday night, after we left, my pet sitter texted me to let me know that she thought Finnie's mucous membranes looked a little pale, and he seemed lethargic. The next morning, she took him into the clinic, as his respiratory rate was increased. In the meantime, our outgoing flight was delayed causing us to miss our connection, and we spent the night in the airport, while waiting for a different flight. Fortunately, I was able to send and receive texts in the air. Bloodwork showed a non-regenerative anemia. Radiographs revealed changes in his lungs, that looked like the pneumonia he had before, although the radiologist did not confirm that. His liver values were elevated, but that had responded to antibiotics in the past, so I wanted to give them a try, knowing that if Finnie wasn't better the next day, I'd have to make the difficult decision to let him go from afar.
Sometimes decisions are made for us. When my petsitter came over Saturday morning, she made the heartbreaking discovery that Finnie had passed overnight. He was in a comfortable position, and appeared to be sleeping when he passed. In spite of feeling guilty for not being there, I find comfort in knowing that he was home with his cat brothers and sisters. I'd also like to think that true to his nature, and on his own terms, Finnie went gently into that good night.
Ellen 8/11/22
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