Watching the clock

This morning I sat in the tv room and finished reading The Handsome Man's Deluxe Cafe with Frida curled up in my lap, a fleece throw wrapped around her. I looked up at the clock now and then, watching as noon came and went, sitting longer than I usually sit still because Frida was resting comfortably. We almost lost her yesterday. We almost said goodbye to her today.

Since we returned from a weekend trip, it became clear that her condition had taken a sharp downturn. She wanted to eat but couldn't eat more than a few mouthfuls. She sat up instead of lying down, obviously in distress. Her sides worked in and out as she struggled to breathe.

On New Year's Eve, I spoke to the vet tech who was there at the clinic when Rosie died. She knew exactly what was going on and said she would relay my questions to Frida's doctor after New Year's Day. We talked, and I took Frida to the clinic for another exam. She had her six month check up just the week before and was doing fine. But now she was in congestive heart failure, her chest filling up with fluid. An x-ray showed so much fluid that the heart and lungs were invisible. Her body temperature dropped. The doctor drained off some of the fluid and Frida came through it pretty well. It was milky, not clear as expected, so something else is going on as well. She is a tough girl, her doctor says. They gave her a diuretic shot and sent us home with pills. She was better, but not much better, so Bob and I scheduled a home visit to say goodbye at noon today.

We decided that taking her up to our bed might bring more strain than comfort. I spent the night with Frida, sleeping on an old futon next to where she has her heating pad on the love seat in the tv room. She got up during the night, drank water, went to the litter box like a good girl, and went back to her heating pad. She sat up for a while to recover from the exertion and then went back to sleep. At dawn she ate a good breakfast and then asked for more.

An old girl cat who is still able to hop on the love seat, drink, eat, pick up her rubber ball, and use the litter box is not quite ready to go. We cancelled the home visit. We thought merely to make her comfortable enough to die at home, but it seems she will continue to do well enough for a few more days. She is something of a celebrity at the clinic where we took her as a stray kitten 19 years ago. Her doctor had just opened the clinic a few months before. Frida is the last cat standing.