About this blog

 This blog is dedicated to Googie, a loyal and not always sweet kitty who shared his life with me, my boyfriend, our dog Bonnie and our other cats.

On January 15, 2011, my cat Googie died. He had FIP and I had to make the decision to have him euthanized. He had been sick for several weeks-I'm not sure exactly when it started. The beginning stages of FIP are very subtle. I know his appetite started to decline and on December 27th I mentioned online that I was thinking about taking him to the vet. I walked past the vet the 29th and saw they were closed until after New Years. I decided that I would call that following Monday and take him in. Then on New Year's Eve I felt his ears and belly and thought he had a fever. He did- one of 106.2 which is really high, even for a cat. Since my regular vet was closed, I made an emergency appointment at The Cat Practice. The vet said he needed to be admitted to the hospital but that they were closed over the holiday weekend. He gave him cool fluids and a shot to bring down his fever. I called Gisella, who runs the rescue I volunteer with. Three of our cats are from her. She was at the vet the rescue uses and arranged for me to bring him there. That vet released him to my care because I know how to administer fluids and give shots and that was what they would do and he would be happier at home rather than in a strange place with strangers. So we returned home with him.He was okay seeming- he ate some food-I was only feeding him kibble by then because that was all he would eat. The next week was up and down-one day his temperature would be normal and he be a little less lethargic then the next day back to a fever and sleeping. I took him back to the vet January 7th. The vet drew blood and changed his meds. I brought home food to force feed him. His temperature went up and down yet again. It became harder and harder to feed him. Sometimes he'd throw up the food. I called Monday but the results weren't back. Tuesday they were in - nothing. They gave us no clue what was wrong. The next day, January 12th, I took him back to the vet to be admitted. He cried on the bus on the way and I put my hand in his carrier to try and comfort him. He didn't cry as much as usual when travelling which worried me. Another person with a cat-also tabby and white-got on and the cats had a call and response thing going on. At the vet's people in the waiting room remarked on his good looks. I filled out the paper work and waited. I murmured to him as we waited I told him I loved him, that he was a good strong boy and that I was only leaving him because I wanted him to get better. And again that I loved him. It was supposed to be just-in-case. Just in case he wasn't okay and whatever was happening wasn't treatable, I wanted to tell him I loved him. I didn't really believe that-I was worrying like I always do but since he had had a physical just about a month before and was fine then, I really thought he would be okay. They would figure out the problem, treat him and he would come back to us, On Friday Gisella texted me his fever was down and he was also keeping food down. (Googie was at the vet under the rescue's account so I had to get all my information through her.) She was optimistic but I pointed out he had been bouncing back and forth for two weeks now. I didn't know what to think but I'm superstitious about thinking the best, Think that and your hopes will be dashed. The next day, Saturday,  I was having a lazy day. I was on my laptop when I got a cry from a tearful Gisella. "I have really bad news. Googie has FIP and they want permission to euthanize. He has fluid in his lungs. Dr. G tested it and it showed FIP." I asked her to please wait so I could come and say goodbye. She told me he was suffering and that they wanted to do it immediately. I gave my permission.

I have had many cats over the years. I have lost countless photos, forgotten many things. I don't want that to happen this time. While everything is still fresh and my memory is so full of him, I want to write  it all down. This is painful but I know in the end I will be grateful to have a record of my boy. There is more to the story of his death but this is enough for a start.