It is never easy to say goodbye to a beloved female friend, and it is even sadder when two of three sisters cross the Rainbow Bridge in less than two months. That’s what happened to my cats Jou Jou B and Jenise, who—along with their sister, Jolie Fille—were adopted at various times in 2014.
Jou Jou B
Jou Jou B’s health crisis hit suddenly. It was about 1:00 AM on Tuesday, April 11, when I was awakened by a strange thud. I turned on the light and saw Jou Jou on the floor next to my bed. As I was trying to determine whether she fell off the bed or missed when trying to jump up onto it, I saw that her posture was strange. She was crouching, not moving from the spot. I tried to get her to move; when she did, I immediately noticed that she was walking in a weird position. She tried to sit in some strange places in the room, totally unlike her usual self.
With a feeling of dread creeping over me, I considered whether I ought to take Jou Jou to an emergency vet. I concluded that I would need to get dressed and take her to BluePearl, where Charlie, Toshi, and Pearl Grey had been treated. Jou Jou B was not happy to be in a carrier.
The ER vet initially suspected a heart or lung problem. Some X-rays were taken and some blood drawn. There was nothing definitive. The vet recommended that I leave Jou Jou there to be examined in the morning, so that is what I did.
Later that morning, I learned that heart disease was now ruled out and a neurological problem was suspected. One symptom they noted was that she was walking in circles. The veterinarian I spoke to suggested that I be referred to a neurology specialist, but that option was likely to be costly. The other suggestion was to try to treat Jou Jou with medication to see if she might improve. I selected the second alternative.
On Thursday, I got another call, saying that I could try taking Jou Jou home with several medications to see if she might improve there. I decided that it was best to go back to BluePearl and observe her to see what I thought. The staff allowed me to see Jou Jou in a room. I watched her walk, crying out a bit as she did so. She was making a wide circle as she walked and would occasionally bump into an obstacle rather than avoid it. I held her for a while, which she tolerated for quite a while. I decided that—given these circumstances—it would be kinder to say goodbye than to watch her suffer at home.
The veterinarian on duty wanted me to know the common behaviors I might observe during the euthanasia process, but I assured him that I had been through this at least 26 times in the 26 years since I had returned to Royal Oak. Fortunately, Jou Jou’s passing was serene. I was able to take home a small case with her paw prints set in clay as a memento.
Jenise
Jenise’s health problem apparently began some time ago without me realizing that she might have a serious problem. I had noticed that from time to time she would cough, making a dry, raspy sound. Since this was infrequent, I suspected an allergy. This changed one Sunday night when I noticed that she seemed to have difficulty breathing. Each breath seemed labored and more rapid than normal. Jenise’s appetite was also affected. I was fortunate to be able to get an appointment with my vet two days later, May 16.
The initial X-rays suggested a problem with the heart or lungs. Blood tests ruled out heart disease. Because there was fluid in Jenise’s lungs, the vet drained the lungs (150 cc) and sent the fluid out for testing. Three possibilities were suggested: heart disease (which had been ruled out), cancer (although no cancer cells were seen), or idiopathic chylothorax. A visit to a veterinary internal medicine professional for possible surgery was recommended; however, the earliest appointment I could get was not until June 29.
The next four weeks were filled with stress, as we tried to boost Jenise’s appetite (with Elura) and reduce the fluid in her lungs (prednisolone and a compounded liquid form of rutin). Twice more her lungs were drained, with even greater volume. Finally it became clear that the treatment was not effective in controlling the fluid in Jenise’s lungs, so I took her to Oakland Veterinary Referral Services after church on June 11.
The emergency veterinarian who handled Jenise’s case was wonderful. She explained that the draining of Jenise’s lungs had probably caused some additional damage and described what the (very complex) surgery for this condition would involve. There was only one veterinarian there who would reluctantly perform this type of surgery, and she would not be available until later in the week. Whether Jenise would survive until then was questionable.
It was clear to me that Jenise was suffering, so I made the sad choice to say goodbye to her that day. A set of paw prints—different than Jou Jou’s but lovely as well—was made for me to keep. With the help of my coworker Garry, I laid Jenise to rest next to her sister Jou Jou B in the garden in our backyard.
Jolie Fille
On a more positive note, the Lord blessed my last-minute effort to get the remaining sister, Jolie Fille, to the vet. Because she was the only feline to send me to the hospital overnight soon after I adopted her in 2014, I have never taken Jolie to the vet. In light of the recent passing of her sisters, I became more determined to get her there if I could. My appointment for RubyDoo was scheduled after work on July 13, but I decided to try to grab Jolie instead—and was actually successful! My only injury was a small blood blister on my left arm. Surprisingly, Jolie was very well behaved at the vet appointment. Dr. R was able to examine her, give her very overdue vaccines, and take blood and urine samples. Contrary to my expectation, Jolie does not even need a dentistry at this time. Hallelujah!