Warning: This is a sad and difficult post. I will understand if you don’t read any further today because this deals with life/death choices.
Sometimes, things in life are just outside your control. It is impossible, no matter what you do, what medications you try, what behavior modifications you do, to get an animal to respond in a way that is peaceful in a family situation. That is the problem I had here with Miss Constance Kitty. We rescued her 6 years ago as a kitten. We knew that she had scoleosis, which is a curvature of the spine, and that she was always going to be a little different. She was a playful kitten though. She loved her scratching post, jumped and ran like any other cat, and loved to play with Squash’s big furry tail. But, as she grew older, she became more and more cranky and afraid. Though the vet had checked for all obvious disease that could cause pain and crankiness, she did not have any. She fought with the other cats – sometimes starting it and sometimes just in response to fear. She hid, a lot. And when she did not get her way, she peed in inappropriate places.
Two or more years ago, the peeing was only occasional. She peed on the dog beds (ok, I figured she did not like them); then on the newspaper (or any paper), if left flat on the table. In the fruit bowl, if there was nothing in it. Then in any bowl, if there was nothing in it (I was unwrapping some new soup bowls I bought at Pier 1 and before I could put them away, she had already christened them). Then came shoes. Last summer, when my sister was visiting, and sleeping on the living room couch, it was on my sister’s pillow. We started living with a plastic table-cloth on the couch (so that we at least could clean it easier when she went, which she always did). Recently, she moved to peeing on the bed, right in front of us or while we were sleeping. We tried anxiety medicine rubbed on her ear, and anxiety collar with pheromones; rescue remedy 2X a day; we carried her to a private litter box (1 of 4) and applauded her as she did her business after every meal. She had every test and exam the vet could think off. We knew she can go in the pan: she pooped in the pan. We knew she knew where the pans were. I even made her a special bed behind my monitor on my desk so she could be with me and protected all day (thinking maybe it was a security thing) with the litter box right outside my office door, but no, she would stay with me for the day and then go on the living room couch or the kitchen table and pee.
When Nine, the bully boy, came last year, it did not help. He liked to pick fights with her. She started to hide under a side table between the couches, so we created a safe space there for her, so she can be undisturbed, but then she came out and peed on the side table. We gave her time alone with a litter pan and her food in a bathroom; she peed on the floor next to the pan and on the scratching post (she loved that post) that was in there to play with. She peed on the ottoman at the end of the bed. And finally, my last straw was that she peed in my favorite pocketbook on the kitchen table.
To what extent do you live terrorized by the anxiety and antisocial behavior of one of your pets? When you have to worry about where you leave a magazine or the mail, just in case a cat will choose that spot to pee in today. How much do you change your life to accommodate such behavior? For most of my life I have arranged my days to take care of children or animals. I nursed many an animal to the end of its life with its associate ailments and incontinence. I diapered Nikki dog, and gave Squash insulin 2X a day for years; Alice cat was confined to a kennel in my office in her last year due to kidney disease; etc. etc. But I have never had any situation like this. No matter what we have done, no matter how much attention we give her, Kitty did not respond appropriately. We were exhausted by her. We were saddened by her. All I can figure is that she was in so much emotional pain, and maybe even physical pain that could not be tested, that she was telling us, by her behavior, how miserable she was. We thought of rehoming her, but how do you change the life situation of a terrified cat? She would not survive on a farm since she did not like other animals and was physically fragile. She peed everywhere, so how do you rehome an animal and pass your problem on to another person – that would just not be fair? The vet said that we had done more than she had ever seen people do to try and treat this behavior.
We love you Constance Kitty, but we just could not do this anymore. Our hearts are broken but Miss Constance Kitty had to leave the zoo. This is definitely the hardest pet decision that I/we have ever had to make in my life. But Kitty is safe now and once again pain free and playing with Squash’s tail in the big meadow.
Postscript: Kitty left us a parting gift. As we crawled into bed that night, after a long trying day, V noticed that the covers were all wet. This to me was a testament that we did the right thing for us, and for Kitty. 😦
NOT Just another DogDaz morning at the zoo ❤ 
