We Won The Battle, But Lost The War

At the end of November 2023, I noticed that our Old Man Cat, Desmond (Dez for short) was having problems eating. He would join the other cats for their morning treats, but after a couple of bites he would hiss and run away. A trip to the vet later, he was diagnosed with feline stomatitis. The vet warned us that there would be no curing the stomatitis, we would just be working to manage his symptoms and keep him eating and pain-free as long as possible. Treatment consisted of a steroid injection and an antibiotic injection. So, with two shots onboard, we began a six month long journey.

Dez responded well to his first shots and I began supplementing his dry food with wet food designed for senior cats. By early January 2024, he was showing new signs of avoiding food. We went back to the vet for a new round of shots and he responded marvelously. We made it to the end of February before he had another flare-up. This flare-up was by far the worst and it took two weeks for his shots to make a difference. In the meantime, I was still supplementing his dry food with wet, sometimes reverting to all wet food. This process sort of took on a life of its own. Not only did I have to feed Dez, but I had to keep the rest of the cats away while he ate. Sometimes I felt like I was a goalie at some sort of weird cat hockey game.

Old Man Dez

In early April, I saw small signs that a flare-up was beginning so we got more shots in the hopes of heading it off before it got too bad. This was especially important as we were due to go out of town and I was the only one Dez would allow to give him his canned food. (He wouldn’t even let Kenn feed him so there was no way the pet sitter would be able to do so.) Fortunately, Dez was able to eat dry food until we returned from our trip, but quickly lost the ability to do so after our return home. The vet had recommended that we try giving Dez oral steroids instead of injections, but that was a no-go. I might have been able to get one pill down him but he would’ve then been so traumatized that we wouldn’t have seen him again.

With each shot being a little less effective than the one before, I knew we were living on borrowed time. Over the past couple of weeks, Dez began struggling to eat his wet food. I started mixing it with water to thin it out and hopefully help him hydrate. (He was dehydrated when we went in for his April shots.) We went to the doctor on Monday and discussed our options. The only remaining course of action – and the vet wasn’t a fan of this choice – was to remove all of his teeth except his canines. This is a lengthy surgery and recovery, but it provides the best chance of long-term relief. However, due to his age (15), Kenn and I were unwilling to put Dez through so much trauma. The vet offered us a dose of a topical opiod that should help relieve his pain. I agreed to try it in the hopes that he could have a few pain-free, or at least less painful, days. It was a disaster. We expected Dez to be a little stoned, and he was. I fed him as soon as we got home, but as the medication kicked in, he kind of freaked out. Poor guy started trying to hide, and worst of all, the other cats started going after him. Tuesday morning, he was still in hiding and still freaked out. He also refused to eat. Every time the poor guy tried to come out of hiding, one of the others would chase him back. It was at this point that Kenn helped me realize that the time to let him go had arrived. I knew it was coming, but I had been fighting so hard for so many months that it was kind of hard to admit that the time was finally here. Sadly, our last attempt to make his life better actually made it worse. So, Tuesday morning, we went back to the vet, had Dez euthanized, and then took his body to the pet funeral home to have him cremated. His ashes will join the ashes of all of our other cats that have passed before.

Right now, I am mentally and emotionally drained and am in need of a really good cry. And ice cream. I desperately need ice cream. I try to end each post with a question, but today, I got nothin’. Instead, please do me favor and give your furbabies extra hugs and pets from me today.

16 thoughts on “We Won The Battle, But Lost The War

  1. I am sorry for your loss. You gave Dez a good home and the best care possible. Our pets give us so much. I hope good memories will eventually replace the pain and loss you are feeling now. Take care, and get some ice cream.

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  2. It’s so hard to know exactly when to let them go, but you and Kenn did an excellent job giving Dez every chance until it was time to say goodbye. Have all the chocolate and I hope his memory eventually brings more joy than pain.

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  3. Dez was a handsome cat. Loss is always painful and I hope you feel a sense of peace at knowing you did the best you could for him. I will go give Beyoncé and Scruffy and Squeaky their hugs and pets now. Rescuing dogs and cats is a full time job, so bless you for doing so. Hugs, Linda.

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  4. Dez was a handsome boy. I am sorry for your loss Linda and I know you mentioned this might be happening when you commented on my recent pet post. The saddest thing about losing a pet is always knowing that their life on earth will be so much shorter than yours – you can steel yourself for their end of life, but it still will hit you head on when it happens.

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