The Mandelbear's Musings

On Thursday, August 6th (yesterday, as I write this), I held our dear pocket panther Bronx in my arms for the last time as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge, after a fierce battle with an illness that started as an ear infection and ended up as meningitis and encephalitis.

The first time I noticed that there was a problem was Tuesday July 21st; he had hidden under the bed instead of spending at least part of the night with me; the next morning he had trouble walking -- his hind legs kept going out from under him. He also had a runny nose; we thought maybe that was affecting his balance. We called AniCura Haaglanden in Rijswijk and got him an appointment for 4pm.

As we were getting ready to leave, he flew into a rage when the vet tried to give him one more shot (for nausea). I'd never seen him that angry. He had another appointment the following Friday, for an MRI and more bloodwork; we came home with an antibiotic -- he was going to need it for another six weeks -- and an appointment for the following Thursday.

He seemed almost himself Monday morning, but sometime in the afternoon he went into his carrier, which has been his safe place for the last few years, and turned away from food, even tube snack (laced with antibiotic) on my finger. I left a bowl in front of him, but it was untouched in the morning. They admitted him, and he was not happy about it. When we went in to visit him he bared his teeth and snarled.

Wednesday during visiting hours, he did the same, but seemed to calm down a little when I sang to him. Thursday he just lay there in his kennel and let us pet him. He hadn't eaten since Monday. They asked if we wanted to have them in a feeding tube, through a hole in his neck, but that would have meant more suffering, more rage, ... and he would have to come in for another surgery to drain his ear, and still might not make it that far. We couldn't put him through that.

A little while after we bought our house on Whidbey Island, N and I went to the local shelter in search of a cat. Usually we would go into a room with a few cats, and wait to see if one wanted us. This time was different, because there in a large cage were two recently-arrived kittens curled up together. One was black, and the other one was a tuxedo. We were told that they were three and two months old respectively; the older one was called Bronx, and the younger one was called Happy. N and I looked at each other and N, a former New Yorker, said "We'll have to change Happy's name to Brooklyn, you know." And that was that.

When we brought him home Bronx had a bit of a cold, which soon got worse instead of better. His stay in the animal hospital, just as he was starting to bond with us, gave him a lasting fear of being abandoned.

He was always an "up" cat, seeking out the highest places to hang out. On top of my wardrobe was one of his favorites. He didn't use the top of the cat tree as much, possibly because Ticia had beaten him to it the day it was installed. (The wardrobe required two leaps of about a meter; Ticia couldn't manage that, but she could still climb.) He would also nip occasionally, and was sometimes careless with his claws, but he was also cuddly and would let me carry him and sometimes sit on my lap. Not when I was trying to type something, though.

He and Ticia usually slept on my bed; after she passed there was no-one to chase him away from the coveted spot next to my face.

As the sedative started taking effect we slid him out on the towel he was curled up on; I gathered him into my arms and N and I stroked him and said our last farewells. All the fear and fury was gone, all the pain and confusion, leaving nothing but love to carry with him on his final journey. I think -- hope -- the last thing he heard me say was Ï will always love you.

Links:

• More details in the notes on last Sunday's post, as things happened.
• The Rainbow Bridge
• Bronx's page
• (Photos: moved to the web page; will be available next week)
• AniCura Haaglanden in Rijswijk
• Dierencrematorium Haaglanden/

Today I am thankful for...

• My family, especially for support, help, and hugs during a very difficult week.
• AniCura Haaglanden in Rijswijk, who took care of a very sick Bronx and helped ease his passage across the Rainbow Bridge.
• N, who was there and helped me through it.
• Compassion. Also, oddly enough, grief.
• The people person who will be taking care of our (remaining) cats next week.
• Physical therapy helping a little. I know, I have to give it more time. I HATE exercise, except for walking. The PT is supposed to be helping that, too. I am an impatient bear.
• Better than being an inpatient bear, I suppose.
• Gin.

Today I am thankful for...

• AniCura Haaglanden in Rijswijk, because our regular vet is on vacation.
• N, who provided calm advice, transportation, and support (not to mention paying the vet bill) while I freaked out over Bronx, who is having trouble controlling his rear legs. He also has a runny nose and a fever. We don't know at this point whether the two things are connected.
• G, for additional support.
• Bronx, who appears to be managing despite his problems. He made it onto the bed this morning. Can I be cautiously optimistic at this point? Please?
• The Dreamhost support tech who helped me get our web designer connected. Actually, I diagnosed the problem myself while we were in the chat, but the tech was able to confirm that I'd done it successfully. Plus serving as a reasonably effective rubber duck.