Thoughts and Prayers Needed

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This past summer, shortly before we took Skooter to a shelter, the calico cat who had been hanging out on our property (alternately called Cali, Hobbes, Mikeneko, and Momma by the rest of us) gave birth to five kittens, who eventually joined their mother getting food on our porch. Four of the kittens eventually stopped coming here, presumably going their own way, but the fifth cat, an all-black boy, kept hanging around with both his mother and his presumed father (Lion King). When the weather got bad and the mother got pregnant again, we took the mother into Dad’s old office (after getting her fixed and aborted) with the intent to eventually take her to a shelter as well. (She hasn’t been that cooperative, though.) The black cat we named Spookytooth (Spooky for short), and took as our own to fill the void left by Rowan’s death in 2006, Spyder moving out of the house with my sister and brother-in-law late last year, and Skooter.

Over the past couple of weeks, though, Spooky’s behaviour kept getting stranger and stranger; she was losing energy, losing her appetite, and appeared to have gone blind. This past weekend we took her to the vet, where she was diagnosed with some kind of disease that affects the brain; I forget the exact name, but Mom kept calling it "FTP." (I’ve tried looking it up online but I haven’t had much luck.) Apparently the disease could potentially take Spooky at any time, although there was the possibility that he could still lead a normal, healthy life. The disease is also communicable by other cats, so anyone in contact with other cats (namely my sister and brother-in-law) has to wash his or her hands thoroughly before leaving here. It was impossible to know how the disease would affect Spooky, but we all agreed that we would give Spooky the best life we could, and that if we couldn’t relieve his pain then we would put him to sleep so he didn’t have to suffer any more than he already has.

When Spooky came home from the vet on Monday, everything seemed to be okay; his energy hadn’t completely recovered, but he could see again and he was eating again. However, today he had been totally lethargic as soon as anyone in the house was up. He was still responding to physical stimuli and purring, but he just didn’t want to move anywhere. About a half hour ago, though, as Mom was taking Spooky to the litterbox, he began to spasm and twitch. It was momentary, and he seemed tired-but-okay after that, but he’s going to the vet right now. We think he might have had a seizure, and that they’ll be able to give him steroids — like they did over the weekend — at the vet’s office to restore his energy. Needless to say, though, it’s hard to avoid assuming the worst, especially after the horrible, horrible year this family has had in terms of deaths. If you all could please keep Spooky in your thoughts and prayers — whatever you do — over the next little while, my family would be most appreciative.

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