At times I like to share personal experiences with my pets. Below is an article that I wrote a number of years ago for an internet pet site.
Ray
Christine’s Pets
703.626.3829
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Many years ago when I was a much younger man, I had a cat that died after having been hit by a car. I suffered greatly and when it was time to get another cat, I saw a small ad in a local newspaper that caught my eye. It was a plea for animal lovers to adopt homeless cats and dogs from their local animal shelter.
At that time I didn’t have very much money and the reasonable cost for shots and neuterization, that were mandatory for pet adoption from the shelter, was a pittance compared to the prices that pet shops or individual owners charged. Shelter cats were certainly more affordable than privately owned ones.
That very same day I adopted an old, ratty cat that looked like she’d gone through hell. She was very scared and I remember thinking that she looked like an owl because of her wide-open, terrified eyes. When the shelter volunteer told me that no one wanted this cat, that her time “was up,” and that she’d get the blue juice the very next day, I adopted her on the spot.
She’s gone now. She was an adult cat when I saved her some twenty-five years ago, and I like to think that her remaining years were spent in comfort with lots of love.
Since those days, my wife, who’s also an animal lover, and I have adopted exclusively older animals in need of a good home.
At the moment we have another old cat, Coco, whom we rescued from a condo owner who was moving to the west coast and who didn’t want to take him along. He had inherited Coco from a former roommate, and to him, this was a throwaway cat which he was just going to set loose on the side of some lonely highway.
We’ve had Coco for almost two years now and he started to show signs of advancing age not too long ago. When he first joined us he was active. He liked to play with his toys and sometimes he’d race around the house for reasons known only to him. Upstairs to the bedrooms, downstairs to the family room, around in a circle from living room through dining room and kitchen … his energy was boundless.
Then, recently, I noticed that he wasn’t as energetic anymore. He wasn’t racing around the house and frankly, he was getting fat. His breath also stunk.
The vet confirmed that he was “slowing down,” and that we had to start thinking of Coco as our elderly gentleman-tom in the family. He had his teeth cleaned of plaque and we had to start brushing his teeth … not an easy task at first.
On the advice of the vet, we adjusted Coco’s food to help him shed his weight. We also bought him a collar for some planned, daily outdoor walks on the leash. Having been an indoor cat for most of his time with us, this, too, was an adjustment that didn’t come easy.
Nevertheless, after a few ill-started attempts, Coco finally relented and took short walks with my oldest daughter. Being exposed to the outside, we also made sure that Coco’s feline leukemia shots were up to date.
However, after a while we noticed that Coco wasn’t excited about going for his walks either anymore. He was slow to walk up and down the stairs, and a couple of times he just walked away from jumping up on to his favorite couch. He even had trouble climbing into his litter box. I then noticed that there was swelling and some redness around his joints. Arthritis was setting in and he was in pain.
Since aspirin and acetaminophen are potentially dangerous to all animals, we took Coco to the vet who prescribed an antibiotic and ultimately a steroid. They helped. When the weather was cold and damp, Coco suffered the most. We helped him by gently rubbing his joints and keeping him wrapped in warm blankets. At times his arthritis was so painful that we couldn’t touch him without causing him to wince in pain.
With medication, Coco now manages. He has his good days and he has his bad ones, but he’s never in want for love from us. We know when he needs to be pampered and we know when we have to leave him alone.
His days are surely numbered now; Coco, to the best of my recollection, must be around twelve years old. I suspect that he’ll leave us sooner than later, but I also know that he’s enjoyed his stay with us as much as we’ve enjoyed having him stay with us.
Taking care of our older cat hasn’t been exceptionally difficult once we knew the warning signs of old age, and once we knew the correct treatments.
