My beloved cat Mongo died this past Tuesday for reasons unknown to me, and I have found myself in a tailspin of grief ever since. I've never owned a purebred before, so I've not had experience in dealing with some of the health problems they experience. However, he was a Himalayan, and after doing some research, I have come to suspect he had PKD.
He was ill earlier this year with what the vet suspected was a UTI. However, with antibiotics, he began improving by the next day. He was current on his vaccinations and had long since been back to his old self when he again stopped acting like himself in recent days. He was long overdue to go to the groomer and had some mats in his fur, which I gently removed with an electric groomer. Shortly thereafter, he began sleeping on my lap tray, which was on the dining table. He stopped going to the training pads he used instead of litter and began urinating on the dining table. However, it took me some time to figure this out because though the table was wet, I wasn't even sure that what I saw was urine. It had no color or odor, and as anyone who has had cats knows, cat urine smells HORRIBLE. It took me catching him in the act to realize that he was actually urinating on the table. Then he began urinating and defacating, although much, much less often of the latter, on the tile floor near his food and water. I thought he was upset with me for dematting him. Then he would crouch near the water bowl, but at times never seemed to be able to get enough to drink, and at other times was reluctant to drink. He also began to eat less.
This past Monday night, he became restless, had difficulty moving his bowels, and began to exhibit signs of discomfort when grooming. I had planned to take him to the vet the next day and kenneled him for the night in our Siberian Husky's cushy, oversized kennel. Mongo was an indoor cat, but did enjoy going outside from time to time. My husband said he was fussing to go outside when he got home from work early the next morning, so he let him outside. When I got up for work, I noticed Mongo was not in his cage and instructed my husband to find him and put him back in the kennel so I could take him to the vet later that day. When I got home from work, my husband still hadn't found him. We looked high and low, but he was nowhere to be found. When I asked my son, he said that he had seen the animal control truck earlier in the day when he was at the neighborhood pool. They were there to pick up a stray dog in the neighborhood, and he said that he overheard the driver saying that she had to pick up an injured cat on the same street where we live. I felt relieved that the pound most likely had my cat and hoped to retrieve him the next day. However,when I called the pound the next day to verify that he was there, and to make arrangements to pick him up, I was advised that no cats had been brought to the shelter. When I informed the pound staff of what my son had said, he checked his records and said that a dead cat was retrieved from our street and brought in. I was told that animal control received a phone call about an injured cat in need of assistance, but that he died before they arrived. In checking further with the pound employee who retrieved him, I determined that this was, in fact, my cat.
This past Thursday, I called back to see about retrieving his body for burial and spoke to the same man who had advised me of the foregoing. He said that I could do so, and that he would mark the bodybag for identification. That night, I also finally had an opportunity to speak to the neighbor at whose house my poor kitty died. I was told that she noticed him in their driveway about 10:30 Tuesday morning and immediately sought help for him. Evidently, besides animal control, which she said she contacted several times, she said that she also contacted several other agencies for assistance, but to no avail. My neighbor, of course, didn't know what was wrong with my poor kitty, but she could see that he didn't feel well and tried to keep him comfortable while waiting for help to arrive. She had even contemplated taking him to the shelter herself, but was at home alone with her two small children. She was visibly affected by the experience and said that she was emotionally distraught that she couldn't get anyone to help my beloved cat before he died, even though she was crying on the phone, and that it should have been evident from this that the situation was serious and urgent. Despite this, she said that it was 4:30 before animal control arrived. Though I remain very sad about my cat's death, before talking to my neighbor, I was worried that he died alone. It gives me some comfort to know that he was at least in the company and care of someone kind who went to great lengths to try to get him some help.
As per my aforementioned phone conversation with the animal shelter Thursday, I left work early yesterday afternoon and went to the facility, which is 18 miles from my home, to retrieve my cat's body. Within minutes, I was presented with a black bag containing animal remains. However, as I began to drive away from the shelter, it dawned on me that the bag seemed awfully heavy for my poor Mongo. I pulled over and opened the bag to find that it contained a domestic shorthair tabby. I drove back to the shelter and returned the bag, informing them that they had given me the wrong animal. During several minutes of searching, the receptionist questioned me about my cat's identifying characteristics, and from the questions she asked me, it was evident that she had either seen him, or was familiar with his description. Shortly thereafter, I was confronted by a female shelter employee who told me that (1) they were unable to locate my cat's remains; and (2) even if they could locate him, the male employee to whom I had spoken was new there and had misspoken in agreeing to release my cat to me, as, per the administrator, it would be against shelter policy to release an animal to its owner after euthanization. I explained that my cat had not been euthanized (not that I can see any reason this would make a difference), but was brought in deceased, that I had three other pets at home who were looking for him and wondering where he was, and that I would like to be able to allow them to say good-bye before we buried him. The employee told me that it would be difficult to find my cat without the male employee there to confirm where he put him, but that he would be in Saturday morning if I wanted to check back them. However, when I called this morning, I was told that he was off today and wouldn't be back in until Monday.
Although I have to reluctantly admit that I was somewhat relieved that I left without his body yesterday afternoon, all of this has only served to exacerbate my grief. I've found slight comfort over the last two days from speaking to my neighbor, and from learning that he probably had PKD and was likely already beyond any help he could have been offered, even if I had succeeded in getting him to the vet before he died. However, this relief has been short-lived, and although I had hoped it would sustain me, I woke up again today grief-stricken and overwhelmed by the loss of my beloved kitty. I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that he's gone; that I'll never hear his sweet meow again; that he'll never look trustingly into my eyes with his beautiful blue ones; that he'll never again be able to snuggle with me on the sofa, or to make biscuits on my bed comforter; that I'll never get to play hide-and-seek with him again under my bedroom door, or hear him meowing outside, and "knocking" on my bedroom door in the morning to wake me up to feed him and play with him. I feel so guilty that he's gone. I can't help but feel that he died needlessly, and I wish so much I would have paid better attention and acted sooner. I miss him so much and just wish I could have him back!! :'-(