My little girl Belle, September 1991 - November 15, 2008. Beautiful kitty with a beautiful heart, I miss her so much.
:'-(
Dear Dr. Hart.
As it turns out, you were right, I was negligent in the care of my little girl, Belle. If only I had gotten her a simple antibiotic at just the right time, she would not have fallen critically ill and died. It hurts me deeply that she died from something with such a simple cure, if only I had been paying closer attention to her.
Instead, only 3 weeks or so before she died, out of extreme aggravation, I punished her for peeing yet again on the hardwood floor. For the past two years I was living in pee, the floor still shows the permanent stains of her favorite places. It had gotten so bad that I had thoughts that the end would be better than dealing with the smell and mess. Of course now I hate myself for thinking that way, but at the time I didn't know what else to do.
Although I did not realize it, peeing on the cool floor was only her way of trying to escape the pain she was in. And I punished her for that, one of the many things I can't forgive myself for. I had taken her to the doctor about a half a dozen times in the prior two years, originally because I saw she had trouble walking and I wanted to make sure it wasn't anything worse than arthritis. When I described the peeing problem, I was told over and over again that she had developed a behavioral problem. In addition to their usual mechanical litterbox, I bought 5 different litterboxes and tried 3 different types of litter, searching for the perfect combination, but nothing helped. At one point it was found she had a urinary tract infection, for which she was given two rounds of antibiotics, but the diagnosis remained that at the age of 15 she had developed behavioral problems.
Her crying at night, not just crying, but heart-breaking howling, was explained as deafness, which some cats get as they grow older. I knew that she wasn't going deaf, as she would come to me when I called her, purr at me when I left the house telling her to be a good girl. But having been told this several times by different doctors, I just accepted it as part of the aging process.
I should have been a better advocate for her. I knew she didn't have behavioral problems or deafness. I was feeding her the right food, but didn't notice that she had dropped too much weight, simply because I was too busy. Had I thought to read the websites on kidney failure, I would have known what she had and what to look for and how to care for her a long time ago, but I didn't know what to read or what questions to ask. The fact was that she was getting older, and I knew that she couldn't live forever. And I knew that at 17, she was considered geriatric. But she had never once been sick in her life (up until the UTI episode), so I expected her to live a long time, then one day just not wake up.
To make things worse, just a few days before she had the kidney failure episode, I noticed she had trouble climbing the stairs. When I told my husband, he thought she was fine, as she seemed to move normally once he got there to watch. I think she was trying to show me, but didn't want to show him. Even though she had stopped sleeping in our bed quite some time ago (I blamed the arthritis and her not wanting to jump high into the bed), suddenly she started to sleep with us again.
Two days later we rushed her to the emergency room. We had been watching TV and she seemed to be normal, she came downstairs to eat and drink and then came to sit on the couch with us. Then suddenly she looked sick, her head dropped, and I knew she was in bad shape. When you first saw her, straight from the emergency clinic, you knew that all of this could have been prevented, that her weight had dropped too much, and I should have noticed it. Since that day, I haven't been able to stop crying, knowing that it was my negligence that caused her illness and death.
When you called me to take her home, even though I suspected it was the end, it wasn't directly said. I had been reading the websites on kidney failure, how cats can live up to 3 years with it, given proper treatment. It was a Thursday night, of which I spent most of it with her sleeping on me on the couch. Friday I made the stupid decision to go to work, and she was alone all day--I will always regret that she was alone, except for the other cat, who might have made things worse for her, although when I got home that afternoon she seemed exactly as I had left her that morning, and seemed happy to see me again. I spent most of the night with her on the couch (I had put her in her bed for a bit but a few minutes later she meowed softly and jumped up on the couch to be with me), but then eventually I had to put her in her bed and put me in mine. When I woke up in the morning, she was sleeping under the dresser next to my bed: she had wanted to sleep with me, but didn't have the energy to jump onto the bed, so again, she was all alone.
She hadn't eaten since she came home, she threw up all the pills I gave her, and I think the only thing keeping her going was the subcutaneous fluids. My good friend and neighbor (who had originally recommended your office to us) told me that she really needed to be taken in. I still somehow thought she could get better, based on what I read about kidney failure, if only she would eat. She wouldn't eat tuna, her food covered in tuna water, catnip, and pepcid was clearly not helping her to feel any better. At some point that morning, she seemed to not really recognize me. Even so, I am sorry I could not be with her when she went to sleep, but maybe since I caused all this it was better that I wasn't there. I don't know what you do with cats' bodies after they die, but it was just a body, not the beautiful life that was in it.
She was such a sweet cat who only wanted to sit on laps and be petted. Because I was always so active, and she was a house cat, she bonded more with my former roommate than she did with me, and my other cat who was more active and dog-like got a little more spoiled by me. I am so sorry that I was neglectful of her, but it is too late. Since she is no longer here for me to make it up to her, I am apologizing to you, since you are the only other person who knows that I was terrible with her. Everyone else seems to think I treated her well, but you and I know different. I miss her so much. I just want to come home from work to see her sitting on the couch, looking up at me to say, Where is your lap and do you have time to pet me now?
dc, formerly owned by Belle, the beautiful little girl with a mustache.
