For the last week or so, until Tuesday morning, I have been giving my cat Isis some different meds. The meds were more pain relief than anti-inflammatory. The meds made her a happy kitty for awhile.
However, the meds did not relieve Isis’ condition. That was getting worse. It had been difficult for Isis to walk for the past several weeks; but by yesterday it had become almost impossible for her to walk on her back legs. She could bend the legs, but could not move her hips to lift herself up, let alone walk. The condition also made for a messy utility room, for although Isis did make the effort to reach the cat box, sometimes she did not make it.
I took Isis to the vet hospital in Anderson Wednesday morning. It would be her last trip. I was told the vertebra that was causing Isis’ distress was inoperable.
At this point I had no choice but to ask that Isis be put to sleep. I was there when she passed on.
Isis was one of a litter of four kittens born about seven or eight years ago. After her mother unsuccessfully tried to cross a newly-paved main street, Isis and her sister Thyme were adopted by my niece Erin. I would take care of her when I was housesitting during summers when my sister the teacher was away.
Isis was an affectionate cat, even when she was living at the house of my sister. My sister did not like Isis (she had a habit of barfing on her books and papers), so when I moved to the new house, the cat was dumped on me.
Isis settled in quickly in her new role as indoor house cat, snoozing on the bed, sitting on my lap in the armchair, watching me from the window in the upper room as I mowed the lawn or next to me on the table as typed away. She was a very happy kitty. In return I put up with having to clean the carpet or table when she barfed on them.
The barfing stopped when I put Isis on the Iams restricted diet the local vet gave me. And she did lose several pounds, and would have become a healthier kitty if not for that tumorous vertebra.
I will miss Isis.