Newest Addition To Family

We decided Munchy desperately needed a buddy. He has been very depressed since Yoda passed. We found this darling little Tonk and named him Tilo. He definitely is what Munch (and me) needed to help with the grief. Munch absolutely loves his new buddy and he is growing on us fast. He is such a bundle of energy. We haven't had a kitten in 14 years. He even has won over Sadie and is working on the dogs.

Theresa

Goodbye, My Yoda, My Little Buddy

It is comforting to know there are other people who share and intense bond and love for their furry kids. I lost my "little buddy", Yoda to Rainbow Bridge, just three weeks ago. I am still extremely lost and depressed with his passing. More so than with any other. There have been many loses in my life this year--my Chieme, my female Siamese who developed a rare untreatable lung cancer and then in June I lost my mother. I had deep attachments to other cats and dogs in the past, but never so much as Yoda. From the moment he chose me at the breeder, we were inseparable. He and his dad were on my shoulders and in my face from the beginning. When I picked him up he went limp in my arms and laid there like a baby. I just knew he was the one. He was young--6 or 7 weeks-- when I first brought him home, but the breeder was sure he was ready to go. However I found when I brought him home, that was not the case. He would not eat or drink unless I gave it to him on my fingers. I ended up having to get a bottle and feed him his substitute milk in it. He would hold it with his paws and "nurse' and purr while laying in the folds of my t-shirt or nightgown. From then on that was his favorite place to lay. He developed a range of meows, murmurs and other sounds I can't even describe, that I never heard from any of my other Siamese cats. He loved to smurgle, but never drooled. He followed me around like I was his Mother. He would bat me with his paws and chirp nyeow so I would hold him and he would nap in my arms or on his back in my t-shirt like he was in a hammock. He loved to head butt me and carry on the longest conversations. As he was growing he discovered that if he laid across my shoulders and tucked his head under my chin, he could watch everything I did and give me kitty kisses whenever he wanted.That became his second favorite place. He would play during the day and sleep all night. He loved those plastic cage balls with the bells in them or miniature Reese cup wrappers rolled up into balls and he would bat them from one end of the house to the other. We had hardwood floors with throw rugs and he skated on them with his balls in tow or wrapped himself up in them with his head peeking out. He was up almost all day never more that a few feet from me. He would sleep with me under the covers or behind my legs every night.
When I met my husband and then introduced him to Yoda, he checked him out thoroughly and made the decision that he was the one. He began showing him almost as much affection to him as he did me. (Not the case with Chieme, she peed on him when he first moved in, but you know how fickle girls are, she later became his buddy instead of mine.) My husband had never been a cat lover before he met Yoda, but Yoda won him over. He decided that he was in kitty heaven if he could get attention from two persons and he would go to each of us and get as much loving as he wanted. He also developed this "squinty eye' habit. Whenever you would talk to him he would half close his eyes and make this purr-gurgle murmuring sound that I have never heard before. He would push himself between us and give us that squinty eye look. Whenever he was doing something he wasn't supposed to and you scolded him or told him no, he would turn and look at you and "talk back" in his sing-song kitty dialogue that sounded like he was scolding you back. My husband said he was more like a little person that a cat. Yoda always seemed to know what you were saying to him. He always had to be in the middle of everything. Sitting on the paper in the morning, helping wrap gifts, laying across my or my husbands shoulder when we were on the computer, or lying on my shoulders when I painted or beaded. He even helped my husband shower and shave in the mornings.
When we moved to a new house, Yoda didn't hide like most cats do, he inspected every inch of the place as soon as we let him out of his carrier. He also learned to meet everyone at the door like the dogs did. He would give his approval by trying to jump on their shoulders and give them the first over. He won many a noncat person over.
Just before he was ten years old, I found a lump under his chin, and I knew it had to be some kind of cancer. It was right in the area where humans have lymph nodes, so I assumed cats probably had them there too. We took him to the local vet and she said there weren't many options from her standpoint. She did a biopsy and sent it to U of I and it returned with the diagnoses of Lymphoma. We could put him on steroids and see how he did, or we could take him to U of I Small Animal Hospital and see what they said. We couldn't imagine giving up on Yoda at this point, so we took him for a consultation with the Oncology department at U of I. We were referred to Dr. de Lorimier, a visiting professor from Alberta Canada. He was very compassionate but truthful veterinarian. He explained the treatment, cost and odds of chemotherapy. He said there were 60/40 odds of Yoda entering remission and that studies show for some reason Siamese tend to do better that other cats. He said it would be fairly costly.We decided if I worked overtime to pay for his chemotherapy, I could take him for his treatments in between. We gave it a go. Yoda had shown approval for Dr. de Lorimier by head butting him and crawling on his shoulders. We allowed the full workup which showed he had Multicentric Lymphoma (cancer in 2 or more areas). This made the reality of remission less than optimal, but Yoda was worth it.
Yoda had to stay overnight for his first treatment and for his work-up testing. We had never been separated for any length of time, so this was very hard to leave him in a strange place. He had to have anesthesia for one of the tests and he didn't tolerate it very well. We ended up with sub Q fluids because he wouldn't drink or eat, but he finally came out of it.
Yoda and I began our bimonthly to monthly trips to Champaign for chemotherapy. He talked incessantly to me on the way over and on the way back. Never napping for more than 15 minutes per trip. He was always so happy to be home after his trips for chemotherapy. He would check out everything and make sure nothing had changed. He would let Chieme and Munch, our other Siamese kids know that he was home again and that he was "The Top Cat".He initially did not respond as well as we hoped. He became anorexic and lost weight( he never had weighed more than 7 and 1/2 lbs on a good day.), but Dr. de Lorimier adjusted the treatment plan and then he did quite well. He did lose his whiskers and his hair thinned out, but he gained weight and continued to be a loving as ever. He put up with the daily prednisone pills and the weekly chemo pill as long as he could get his treat of turkey or chicken breast afterward.
About 6 months into the treatment, Yoda began protesting when they put his IV's in. They would call me back and he would instantly calm down when I was present and head butt me as if to say "where did you go". I asked the Vet tech Jenny, if I could hold him until they started the chemotherapy. I knew Yoda trusted me without reserve and I could do anything. She was skeptical, and said that most animals do worse with there owners. I explained that we were so bonded, I thought he would allow them to continue treatment if I could be there. With reservation, she relented, Yoda behaved perfectly from then on. He would look at me in the eyes and squint and talk to me while they inserted the IV"s and drew his labs. Yoda became "famous" for letting his "Mommy" do anything with him and he also became on the Oncology departments favorite. We continued for 2 years. Yoda continued to do well and seemed to be back to his spunky self. Dr. de Lorimier was very fond of Yoda and seemed quite pleased with his response to chemo.
In May of 2003, Yoda was declared in remission. He was released from treatments and was only required to have check ups. We did his 3 month, 6 month and 1 year checks and no cancer appeared. We did his 2 year and no cancer appeared. It seemed, Yoda was "cured".
We have cherished every day we have had with Yoda since his diagnosis. We had really hoped we had "beat the odds", however it was not to be. The last week in July, I noticed Yoda was not chasing his Reese cup balls for very long and seemed very winded. I feel really bad because I was so wrapped up in my mother's death just 3 weeks before that maybe I didn't notice that Yoda wasn't feeling well.
I took him to my local Vet and Yoda became so stressed out that he was panting. He performed a chest x-ray that showed a large bilateral pleural effusion. He said he could do a thoracentesis, but thought the stress might be too much. The Vet wanted to euthanize him on the spot. We were not ready and asked for alternatives. He said we could put him on Lasix and see if it helped so he could go to U of I for another opinion. We opted for this plan. I regulated him on the Lasix according to his breathing pattern and appetite. I slept with him on the couch, as he was too short of breath to make it up the stairs and I didn't want him to be too far away from the litter box or his food bowl. He made significant improvement over the next few days and was again able to climb the steps to take his usual place on the bed. He seemed to improve enough to make the trip to Champaign.
We traveled to Champaign on the 27th of July. He talked and purred like usual on the way over. I told him over and over, on the way that we loved him and would try to get him better. He purred and head butted me back. Dr. de Lorimier was out of town, so we were referred to another Vet at the Hospital. He evaluated Yoda and said that he recommended a thoracentesis to see if this was related to the Lymphoma or another problem. Yoda was not as short of breath now and would perhaps tolerate it better after the Lasix had been on board for a while. He said that I needed to leave him overnight or for 2 nights, take him home and bring him back for a cardiology consult on Monday. With reservation, I agreed. I had to work for the next few days, and wouldn't be able to transport him back and forth anyway and my husband was out of town on a business trip.
He performed the thoracentesis and took off 80 cc and the cells didn't look like cancer. They thought perhaps a chylothorax was the problem. They said he was breathing much better, but still had a significant pleural effusion and may require more fluid to be drained. I agreed that if he became more short of breath that this was acceptable. They then said they preferred him to stay until the cardiologist came in on Monday. I reluctantly agreed. They then performed another thoracentesis for 130cc, I thought because he was more short of breath, but was not sure because they had talked to my husband. They called on Sunday morning and told my husband that Yoda was holding his own and still breathing okay. When I arrived home from work on Sunday night July 30th, it wasn't too long after that I received a phone call from the Vet. He said Yoda had taken a turn for the worse and they had him on supportive therapy. I asked if I could come and be with him as he did better in my presence. He said he was not sure and would have to ask his superiors. He called back and said he was sorry, but they did not allow visiting on the weekends, that I could come in the morning. I was quite beside myself, but my husband was gone, I had no one to watch our dogs and didn't know what to do. I did not sleep, I kept waking up and worrying about Yoda, there with all those strangers and so ill. The Vet called about 1 a.m. and said that Yoda was losing ground and didn't expect he would make it till morning. He asked if he could put an end to his suffering. I again asked if I could not come and be with him!!
Now I ask, how can one ask this of a pet owner over the phone. This is the hardest,saddest decision I have ever and hope never to be asked again, let alone over the phone!!! He was my buddy and my best friend. How can I ever forget that I didn't get to hold him in my arms one last time. He had to die in the midst of strangers. I am kicking myself for not just getting in the car and going over there. I feel like I let him down immensely as well as myself. I have all these questions, but can't ask because I can barely say his name without breaking down. I know if I wait too long, the questions will never be answered, because no one will remember my Yoda. I hate to sound ungrateful for the extra time we had in the last 5 years, because I am not. I have cherished every day that we belonged to him. But it is never long enough for one you love. Yoda was my dearest Little Buddy I ever had.
This is where I get kind of crazy!! I have tried to ask some questions, but can't finish without crying. I have enough professional expertise to realize I am dealing with a lot of anger and depression issues, but that doesn't make it any easier. I know that I can't bring Yoda back no matter how much I want to. But the questions keep haunting me.
The Vet told me, he had to drain his lungs a total of 5 times. I had no idea, when did he get so bad that he needed this done so many times?? I looked up as much as I could on the internet(I am a RN and have access to professional journals and articles on the medical sites) I can find no reface to draining this much fluid off a 7 lb cat (500cc total) for this procedure. Is this the case of little knowledge is dangerous?? All the references say to drain just enough to make the animal comfortable. 500cc is a lot of fluid for a 3.5 kg cat!! I mean a cat has a circulation volume of about 60 cc per kg of body weight or about 8 to 10 % of the body weight is fluid volume (about 12 tablespoons per kg), a little more than as humans 7 %. Even with replacement IV fluids, taking off 500cc of fluid on a cat in 3 days is equivocal to removing 2 times the circulating volume (100 tablespoons) or the equivalent of taking off 9 liters or 2 and 1/2 gallon milk jugs of fluid on a 150 lb person??? I feel this is irresolvable, yet I can't let it go. It just doesn't seem to add up. I know I can't bring him back, but I just am not sure it was his "time" to go!!
I couldn't bring myself to have them do a necropsy on him after he had been through so much. We did do a private cremation so we can have some part of him with us always, but I can't even look at them. I had to put him in the closet to keep my sanity. I think there are no more tears and then they come flooding back. I've tried to keep some semblance of normality for the rest of our furry kids. Munch, his lifelong buddy is also depressed. We have spent a lot of extra time loving on them. I have a hard time even motivating myself to do much of anything else, because all I can think of is Yoda.
I have sent letters to the Small Animal Hospital about the visiting policy, they did apologize and said that was not the true policy, the Vets on duty that weekend were new and not aware of the correct policy, but again that does not bring Yoda back either. But hopefully no one else will have to walk in my shoes and miss the end of their pets life.
Dr. de Lorimier did send a nice letter about how Yoda was his favorite feline patient and asked for some photos. He also requested to do a story on him and his battle and long survival with Lymphoma for his next journal publication. So I guess Yoda will somewhat be immortalized. At least in the veterinary world.
Maybe my questions were not meant to be answered, and I just needed a place to vent my frustration and deep sadness that I can't verbalize, only write to about. I guess I needed to find this place of compassion with others who share my fate and maybe it is not supposed to make sense. Maybe it is just supposed to be.

Goodbye Yoda

I will always remember you in my heart and I hope there IS a Rainbow bridge where we can be reunited some day. Where I can feel the joy of holding you in my arms again and stroking your soft fur. Where I can hear you little nyeows and feel you sweet kitty kisses on my face. Where you can head butt me and give those blue squinty eye love looks. Where you can chase Reese cup balls to you hearts content and eat all the turkey and chicken you want. Where we can be together for all eternity.

Good bye, my Yoda, my Little Buddy, Goodbye