Mr. Tom: R.I.P.
Poor Mr. Tom died this morning. He was one of our tom cats. Our fuzzy little buddy. We will miss him dearly.
We're not sure what he died from. He started losing weight real fast a month or so ago until he was just a shell of what he used to be. He went from 12 pounds to, I'm guessing, less than five in a month to a month and a half's time. You could literally feel the outline of his skeleton. It was quite upsetting. I figured he had leukemia, or some such.
We finally took him to the vet a few days ago and the vet couldn't find anything wrong with him except he was anemic. He gave us some antibiotics and steroids to cover anything he might not have found. They didn't work.
It broke our hearts as he got worse and worse and could hardly walk. Last night he was sleeping between us on the bed. About 2am he started wailing like he does when we put him in the kitty carrier and take him to the vet. He did that for about an hour, then quieted down.
After a while I could feel him going through convulsions. Just short ones about a minute apart. Then, about 4:30 he had a major seizure. It lifted him right off the bed and woke Connie. We both figured he'd had it. Connie wondered what we could do to help him. I told her there was nothing we could do except wait for the vet's office to open and take him in to be euthanized.
I couldn't sleep after that. Tom was stiff as a board from the seizure. I figured he might already be dead. We covered him with a towel and let him lay there. As I played on the computer I figured, and hoped, he was dead, not wanting him to suffer any more.
About 7am I heard some weird breathing sound in the bedroom. It couldn't have been Connie. I went in and could see it was Tom. He seemed to be having trouble breathing. Connie awoke and told me she'd felt him a little earlier and he was still alive. She was upset to see him having trouble breathing.
We decided to take him to the vet for the last time. We called and the vet's office wasn't open yet, but they said they would be in a few minutes and to go ahead and bring Tom in. I was dressed enough already to handle going down there. Connie almost was.
I went to look at Tom and thought he was dead. I told Connie. She looked but couldn't be sure he wasn't breathing. I wasn't completely sure but pretty sure he wasn't breathing. Besides, his eyes were open and pupils were dilated. I flashed a light in his eyes and they never changed.
I asked Connie if we should go ahead and bury him but she said she didn't want to bury him if there was a chance he was still alive. She suggested calling the vet and ask for advice.
The doctor said it sounded like he was dead as it should be easy to tell if he wasn't breathing but, if we wanted, we could bring him in and he'd listen to his chest. Connie finally agreed he was dead.
We wrapped him in a towel and buried him under one of the apple trees outside our back door.
We'll miss poor Tom, but at least we still have two and a half other kittens to enjoy and be annoyed by.