Mace (as most of you know) was my beloved sphynx cat. He came to us at 12 weeks old, with a severe upper respiratory issue (feline rhinotrachitis, aka herpes) and an eye ulcer that required surgery. The clinic I worked at had sphynx breeders that could not do the surgery, so they asked that he be euthanized. I agreed to take him and had his surgery done (a conjunctival flap) and neuter. The poor fella had to wear his cone of shame for about 8 weeks while his eye healed, but then he was free. I have to say, a 12 week old kitten running around the house with an e-collar on is painful. We got hit in the head and legs so many times with that thing. After the conjunctival flap was removed, he was nearly as good as new. His herp would flare up from time to time, and Mace was known to sneeze often, sometimes with great big gobs of snot being expelled, unfortunately onto our faces sometimes, the windows, or just on his own face, which he promptly would lick, and then swallow (yummy).
One of the first things that Mace did that strengthened our love for him, and started the “little bastard” nickname was the ham incident. We did not think Mace was big enough to jump on the counter yet, so food was still left out (Dock, our other cat was good and really didn’t eat anything, but she loved baked beans). We had a ham and left some sliced pieces on the counter so we could have seconds, when out of nowhere, we heard a thump and Mace running past us, the piece of ham bigger than he was as it dragged on the floor, then him trying to run up the stairs with his treasure. We knew then that we would have to watch what we left out. From then on, we needed to watch anything with cheese, cream, or milk, empty cans of soup (mushroom was his favourite), muffin cups as we literally had to pull them out of his throat on a few occasions and snacks. He liked to chew plastic, so any bags in the house needed to be put away immediately. But he LOVED popcorn. Here he is helping himself.
Mace was 11 years old in April this year, and we could see that his age was catching up to him. He was slowing down, not running around as much, and his wrestling matches with Norris became shorter. We decided that he should go to the vets for a senior checkup and to talk about arthritis and do his senior bloodwork. He had peed on things off and on for years, but it seemed to be getting worse these last few months (he would only do it on clothing left out for a few days, so we figured he was just being an a-hole). He wasn’t drinking more, but checking his kidneys, thyroid, etc was a good idea. His appetite had also decreased a bit, but he wasn’t moving as much, so we didn’t worry too much about that. He became more of a suck, wanting to be with us, needed to sit on us and soak up our body heat. We thought he was using it to relieve some of the discomforts of his arthritis.
July 10, 2017, 7 pm. After a long day of work, I was in need of a bath to relax aching muscles, and a bath bomb and a glass of wine usually helped. Mace started crying, which was not unusual for him when he wanted your attention. This was a weird cry though, more desperate sounding. Mike said he was walking a bit oddly and he was worried, so he hollered and I got out of the tub (I only got about 5 minutes and 1 sip into it). Mace was definitely painful, he was protecting his right side, and yowled and hissed when I picked him up. He wouldn’t walk, he just sat at the back door and cried. I looked around to see if there was anything else when I found that he had vomited his dinner. He then got up, went downstairs (although gingerly) and used his box, urinated and had a normal bowel movement, then went back upstairs by the back door and cried some more. We grabbed our laundry basket (full of clean cloths) and put him in there so he was warm and comfortable, and he tried to hunker in, but was still sitting oddly, painful and in distress. He couldn’t wait until the next day for his scheduled appointment so we took him into Niagara Veterinary Emergency Clinic.
The receptionist opened the door and took us into the room. Took him (laundry and all) to triage him and put him on oxygen as his mucus membranes were quite pale. The vet came in about 15 minutes later and said that he had detected a heart murmur and felt something hard in his abdomen, and wanted to do some bloodwork and x-rays to see what is up. We waited an hour watching The Office on Netflix with another couple, hoping that he was ok. The doctor called us for the results and to look at the rads. There was some diffuse fluid in his abdomen, everything looked a bit muddy. While his heart looked good, sphynx cats are prone to HCM which you can’t see. With digital xrays, the doctor was able to adjust contrast and showed us the area that he was worried about. He also had some protein loss which was likely due to the fluid in his belly. An ultrasound would tell us more, and they could keep him overnight on fluids and meds until the u/s could be done the next day. The estimate was quite large (which I somewhat expected), but that made us think about what was best for Mace. Mike was not in the room, so I needed to talk with him first, but I asked the doc what he thought. He didn’t think it was good, but the ultrasound would let him know more. Mike and I talked, and best case scenario, mass would be operable, his heart would be fine and he would go through surgery fine, but it would be a long road for him, not being at home, on iv fluids, pain meds, etc. His heart and his upper respiratory tract was our big worry, whether he could handle a surgery like that, the stress of being away from home, if he’d be ok post surgically. While the costs was a factor, it wasn’t. If we had guarantees that things would be good, we would spend all we needed to. There are no guarantees though, so after some tears, the tough choice was made to say goodbye. We sat with him for about 10 minutes in the comfort room, talking with him, petting him and enjoying our last bit of time with him. The doctor came in, was very kind and supportive of our choice. It was quick and peaceful and painless for Mace. His ashes will be coming home to us soon and he will have a place on the shelf beside Dock.
My clients (my friends), our families and our friends have been so great with words of sympathy and support that I am so grateful. If you never had the pleasure of meeting Mace, you got to know him through Mike and I, through our stories, and our aggravation. While cleaning up yesterday, I thought that I would much rather have him around and all that entailed, then have an easier time. With only Norris, we have only 2 boxes now instead of 4, none are dining room anymore. No peeing in odd places, no separating Mace and Norris to eat, no patting down a blanket before you sit down to make sure you aren’t sitting on him. No one trying to help themselves to popcorn, no one yelling at you at 4pm when he knew damn well dinner wasn’t served until 5. No trying to get extra nighttime snacks by telling Mom that Dad didn’t give it to them yet, no demands for you to move so he could have a perfect lap to sit in, no demands to be tucked into a blanket or bed. There will also be no more face loving, not more snuggles on the couch, no more conversations (he was a great talker) no more running around the house with his little chicken legs, no more boxing matches with Norris. No more make out sessions with Norris either. No more purrs, no more love. His personality was too big for the house, and I’m still waiting for him to come downstairs, demanding something. Mike and I made the right decision and I am so glad that we were able to do that.
As an end point, Mike asked me if I think there is an afterlife for pets. I do and I think Mace was telling us he was here by waking us up with Pearl Jam’s “Last Kiss” the next morning, and by being my Facebook Memory with this pic. Love that his energy is still around.
Thank you so much to everyone at NVEC, my clients, our friends and our family. He will be missed immensely.