Anastasia was a strikingly beautiful cat. Her fur felt as soft as a chinchillas and her markings were were distinctive. She had a mitten on one paw, and a sock on the others. Her tail was so big and fluffy, everyone commented on it. Her eyes were luminous and full of expression.
A while back she got attacked by a canine of some sort...perhaps a coyote. I took her to the vet to get her fixed up. All seemed well with her many days afterword. She was gaining weight and seemed very fit. Until a few days ago.
I noticed she was sleeping more, but didn't think much of it. She still seemed fine. Then a day or so later she came into my bedroom and I noticed she wasn't breathing well at all. It was very upsetting, especially when I gently pet her and I could feel her back bone. It was shocking how bony she had became in such a small period of time.
When she came into my room I feared she wouldn't make it through the night. I didn't know what to do for her, since I had no clue what was happening. I couldn't rush her to an animal hospital because I didn't have the money to pay their prices, which is highway robbery.
So I sat with her throughout a good portion of the night trying to comfort her. She couldn't find any position that eased her breathing and I knew she was exhausted. I was very surprised that she survived the night and took her to the vet the next morning to end her suffering and put her down.
But when I got there, I had to see if the vet could find out what was wrong with her. I needed to know and weigh out the options. They immediately put her in a box with pure oxygen flowing into it and suggested x-rays to see if her chest had a mass in it. It turned out that her chest cavity was full of fluid, including puss. The pressure all around her lungs and heart were the cause of her respiratory distress.
The vet felt like she might of had a terrible infection as a result of her attack and said they could drain off the fluid, but that if there was infection it would come back and I would have to have her chest drained regularly. The vet said her best chance was to go to a specialist to have a chest tube put in and have her on high powered antibiotics.
They also did blood work to determine what kind of nasty bacteria that was causing the fluid build up. It was determined she had a super bad infection. At that point my only choice would be to send her to a specialist and the money it would cost would be impossible for me to cough up. My vet said there was a good chance that she wouldn't make it anyway, even with a specialist taking over her care. As it was her care already cost 400.00, which was expensive already. I had no choice but to have her euthanized. She died peacefully in my arms.
I brought her body home and buried her here at the house. She grew up here, so I felt it fitting. That was the hardest hole I've ever dug mentally and physically. It took about 2 hours to get it done. I had to bust through a thick layer of rock and clay with a heavy duty pic ax, then switched between busting the rock up and a shovel to remove the dirt, rocks, and clay. Russell came over and dug too for a little while because I was so exhausted I couldn't move my muscles any more. I am so sore I still don't want to move around much. We made the hole almost three feet deep and three feet long.
Russell read a few words he made up for the burial and we all cried until there were no more tears left. This was Ben's first lesson in death and the loss caused by it. He asked many questions and wanted to keep her body. I told him about the process of the body shutting down and the decaying that would happen. I explained that death was a final part of life and that she was gone and not suffering anymore. Ben said she was a good cat and she was.
She liked to play fetch and bring back whatever was thrown just like a retriever. She was also very smart and I could tell she easily figured things out when faced with obstacles, etc...
I'm relieved she is out of her misery and will miss her terribly.