Another One Bites the Dust

NOTE: The post below was posted yesterday morning on my personal blog, ecocatwoman.  After sharing it with the other Front Pagers, bb, jj & Mona suggested I repost it here.  It isn’t the usual sort of post you see on Sky Dancing, so I’ll understand if it isn’t your cup of tea.  And, HT, I really did pick this title before your comment on Kat’s post last night – really!


In 1999, when I was relatively new to the feral cat “community” and Trap/Neuter/Return I answered a call from a very nice woman who needed help trapping a litter of 8 – 10 week old feral kittens.  She had managed to trap the mother cat and her semi-grown kittens from a previous litter and get them all fixed through Orange County’s CARE program.  In 1999 I had recently become the president of CARE and we did not normally go out and do the trapping.  She was a very sweet woman and desperately worried that the homeowner’s association would call either animal control or critter control and the kittens along with the ones she had already fixed (and bonded with) would be trapped and killed.  I talked at a meeting of the homeowner’s association and convinced them to hold off on trapping, explaining that CARE worked in partnership with Orange County Animal Services to trap, alter and vaccinate cats.  My intention was to trap the kittens and return them “to the wild.”

I only managed to catch one kitten on my first attempt. She was absolutely beautiful, but completely wild. Being a novice I felt she was too old to try to tame/socialize her. So, once she was spayed and recovered, I returned her. She died within 2 days, which devastated me. I decided once I trapped the rest (actually 4 remaining littermates and 2 from the litter of another female), I would make every effort to socialize them and find homes for them, although CARE did not do adoptions. I felt I had enough contacts in the rescue community that I could easily find a group who would handle the adoptions. I was ridiculously lucky, trapping all 6 kittens at once, something I never managed to do again in the following 8 years of trapping expeditions.

After dropping the little ones off at the clinic in the morning, I saw a kitten blithely walking across a normally very busy road as I was driving home. Of course, I stopped and picked him up and took him home. He was about the same age as the kittens, but he was the friendliest kitten I had ever seen. He cuddled on my chest and purred all the way home.

Within two days of bringing the 6 kittens home, I noticed one of them (Chaz) had a beard of bubbles on his chin. I called my veterinarian and she told me to come in the next morning with all of the kittens because, at least, Chaz had calicivirus, which was/is highly contagious. No doubt they had contracted it at the animal services clinic and that is probably what caused their sister’s death. To make matters worse, while I was researching home remedies for cats with colds, Charlise, Chaz’ sister was the only one in the 2 litters who got sick, seriously sick. However, Clark, the sweet boy I picked up off the street, got deathly ill as well, along with one of my adult cats, Catherine. All were bundled off to the veterinary clinic, where both Charlise and Catherine spent 2 weeks for treatment and force-feeding. Clark was the sickest and spent a month at the vet’s office before he began eating on his own. Whew – we had dodged a bullet. It is always dreadful to lose one of my animals, but losing kittens is the worst by far for me. As of tonight, Charlise is the last of this little family of kittens/cats.



I lost Cisco suddenly on February 16, 2008. I had taken him to my vet because the nictitating membranes (third eyelid) in both of his eyes were partially up. He had no other signs of illness. He hadn’t lost weight, he was eating, so I didn’t suspect there was anything seriously wrong. Within 2 or 3 days, he had died. The vet suspected either liver or pancreatic cancer.

Darling Clark, the kitten rescued from the 6 lane highway died, after a long wasting, undiagnosed illness, on February 25, 2010. He had grown into a Velcro cat. He would leap through the air, almost like a bird, to be in my arms. He would leap from the floor, from a countertop, the bed or the arm of a chair, flying into my arms without scratching me or digging in with his claws. Turning my back did not do any good in dissuading him from his goal, so there were many times he would end up on my back, much like a living backpack.



Chaz first developed plasma cell stomatitis, a common result of having had calicivirus in early 2008. I had most of his teeth removed in April, 2008. He was fine for awhile. By the end of 2010 it was obvious he had a problem with one of his ears. Cordelia, one of my dogs, would continuously clean Chaz’ ear, while Chaz would lie there seeming to enjoy the cleaning, grooming process. I took Chaz to my vet and she found that he had a cancerous, inoperable tumor in his ear. His health deteriorated and I had to have him euthanized on February 12, 2011.



As Chaz was going through his illness, his brother Charlie, another sweet, extremely affectionate boy began losing weight much like Clark He would lose weight, and then seem to recover and start putting some of the weight back on he had lost for a period, and then start losing weight again. I took him to the vet on numerous occasions, had tests run again and again to no avail.  X-rays, blood tests, nothing revealed what was causing the weight loss. I had to force feed him from time to time, as well as give him sub-cutaneous fluids to keep him hydrated. Finally, it became obvious that he wasn’t going to recover and his weight loss was decimating him. I had often brought him to work with me, and everyone on staff fell in love with him. He was happiest in someone’s arms. I let him go and had him put down on June 14th, 2011.

At that point, I had only 3 cats of the original 6 remaining. Of those one had never become tame, Chandler. Over the years, I had only managed to get a quick “pet” of him while he was eating. Generally, if I got within about 3 feet of him, he would hiss and take off. Courtney, one of Chaz’ and Charlie’s sisters who was among the three, had remained feral for the first year after joining my herd of cats. Then, surprisingly, she lay on the edge of the bed, rolled onto her back and looked up at me, as if she was asking for a belly rub. At the top of my “can’t resist list” is a kitty tummy. Regardless of the potential danger, the soft fur of a kitty tummy is totally irresistible to me. From that moment on, I could pet her and love on her and she never failed to offer me her tummy for a rub.



Courtney developed a snuffing noise during the time I was dealing with other seriously ill cats. I assumed it was an upper respiratory problem, so I used a vaporizer to try to clear it up I also tried a dry herb vape pen and a nebulizer, but neither did any good. I took her to the vet, who insisted it was, in fact, an upper respiratory illness despite my insistence that wasn’t the problem. In late 2011 she spent a week at the vet’s office, but she was still  snuffling when I took her home. I did some research on the internet, the vet did x-rays because I was certain she had a nasal tumor. I ended up taking her to the area veterinary specialists, where they did a CAT scan. Unfortunately, I was right. She had nasopharyngeal carcinoma. It was an inoperable, fatal condition. She was fine for a while, but one morning she started having seizures. I rushed her to the vet and had her euthanized. That was on January 12, 2012.

About a month or two after losing Courtney, Chandler began losing weight, much like Clark and Charlie had done. After visiting two different vets, both of whom failed to diagnose either Clark’s or Charlie’s conditions, I saw no need to go through the frustration and enormous costs just to be told either “don’t know” or “can’t treat”. Chandler continued to eat, quite a bit, being the first cat with his head in a bowl of food every night. As he continued to lose weight, I called my vet’s office to alert them that I would be dropping him off, explaining he was feral and would have to be sedated to be examined. The problem? I couldn’t catch him. After making several attempts, I gave up. Then one day, to my great surprise, he allowed me to pet him. Within a week or two, he allowed me to pick him up, and even carry him around. I took him into the vet and she postulated, due to feeling a mass in his abdominal region that he either had a kidney tumor or one in his spleen. By this time he had lost a considerable amount of weight he certainly could not withstand a major surgery.



I refuse to sanction surgeries to remove tumors, especially internal ones. Every time I’ve had that done to other dogs or cats, the cancer spread like wild fire throughout their bodies. I had put Cricket through 5 surgeries for mammary cancer, many years before. After the 5th surgery, the tumors returned within 2 days.

The vet suggested subcutaneous fluids daily for Chandler after giving him an antibiotic injection. I tried the vaporizer again with some medicinal vape juice to calm the nerves. He lasted 2 weeks. Although he ate a small amount yesterday (Thursday) morning before I left for work, and the fact that I knew his remaining time was very limited, I chose not to take him to the vet on Thursday to have him euthanized. I wasn’t ready to give up and he didn’t seem to be ready either. However, when I got home from work, it was obvious that it was time. He had chosen to spend the day in a carrier. When I first looked at him, lying with his head in a awkward, unnatural position, I feared he had died while I was at work. He was alive but terribly weak, so I arranged to bring him to the vet in the morning. It became obvious within the hour that he probably wouldn’t last the night. He was uncomfortable and probably in pain. I took him to the nearest emergency clinic and had him euthanized. At least, after 13 years of longing to touch him, pet him and hold him, I had the opportunity to do that for the final weeks of his life. It was a special gift he gave me in the end that I will always treasure. To hear him purr for me when I petted him and hold him was a reward that I shall always cherish.

Little, petite Charlise, stunted by her early illness, remains the last of the group of kittens saved from a shorter, more difficult life on their own. May she live many, many more years.



18 Comments on “Another One Bites the Dust”

  1. bostonboomer says:

    This is a beautiful post, Connie, even though it’s also sad. You are to be commended for all you have done to rescue animals and give them better lives. I’m so sorry for your losses and I hope that lovely little Charlise will be with you for a long time to come.

    Losing pets is so hard. I don’t think I could go through it again.

  2. HT says:

    Oh Connie, how I relate. Beautiful post. Your Courtney looks just like my Dinah. I had to euthanize her because she was riddled with cancer – but she was 18 years old at the time – at least she had a chance to live life and command humans, which she did with aplomb.
    I have three cats now and of course Milly the Wonder Dog. I can relate to the whole post not just on the cat level. When my Holmes curled around the toilet and refused to get up I knew there was a severe problem so off to the emergency clinic we went. Unfortunately, my son and I were the only ones to return. Sigh, they aren’t pets are they – they are family.

    • ecocatwoman says:

      Yep, real, honest to goddess family. So sorry about Dinah and Holmes. And, I’m down to 1 dog now, having lost 2 in less than 2 years. Caleb was at least 15 (shepherd mix rescued off the street) & Cordelia (small pitty mix & too smart for her own good) another off the street puppy was 13. Celie remains and she is 13 too and a lab mix.


      • HT says:

        Enjoy them while you can. After Holmes, I vowed I would never get another dog and after Dinah – no more cats. However I already had three other cats, and they show no signs of leaving me soon (which is remarkable as two of them are 18, the other 10) Anyway, after three years without a dog I got itchy and went on to the Pet Rescue site. I found a rescue site close to me and contacted her because I would not complete the questionaire online (too much information to my mind). Anyway, we made an appointment for her to come out and complete the questionaire and she turned up with “Millicent”. Who would call anyone Millicent? especially a dog. Milly the Wonder Dog didn’t leave my house that day. Some days I think I was absolutely crazy, but most of the time – well Milly is my anchor. She is so important to me as is Zeke the Awful cat. Cleo and figaro are at an age where they do not do anything much, but they are equally important. I vow that after they are all gone – never again – too much pain (of course that’s after years of pleasure and fun).

  3. NW Luna says:

    So sad. If you didn’t have such a loving heart, you would not have the joy and sorrow of caring for these fur persons. My heart goes out to you, having lived through similar experiences. May Charlise live and be well for many years.

    • ecocatwoman says:

      Thanks, Luna. And, I totally agree – and I think the joy far outweighs the pain, at least for me. I could live without the feeling of helplessness when not able to “make it better”, either to cure the illness or make the transition easier and more comfortable for them. Making the decision as to the “right” time is sometimes, but often not, easier than other times.

      • northwestrain says:

        As much pain at the hole in the heart the furkids leave — I would miss being a servant to my dog and cat. They give so much in return.

        Right now my Chi is at a loss as to why her dad is gone — he blames me. Dad is away on business — but he doesn’t understand. He refuses to eat the bed time snacks his servant always gives him.

        Years ago a nosy person asked why my husband and I got married — since we didn’t want two legged children. I answered — my dogs were so embarrassed that we weren’t married — we got married for the kids. Shut her up! So that became my standard line to the busy bodies.

  4. Delphyne says:

    Connie, I am so sorry to hear about Chandler and send my deepest sympathies. Losing a beloved pet can be so difficult.

    May you have many years of happiness and good health with Charlise and she with you.

    • ecocatwoman says:

      Thanks, Delphyne. Doing these retrospectives has helped me deal with the losses & let’s me share a piece of them with others.

  5. northwestrain says:

    Off subject — but Global warming related — the power outages on the East Coast. How is everyone? Extra hot and loss of power — refrig & freezers not working. Oh my. how awful. (except for the conservatives — I just have no sympathy for the deniers.)

  6. janey says:

    I was lucky enough to have (not all at once) three lovely cats over the years. Thankfully, they all died sudden deaths, and two of them have come back to visit after their deaths. I know it sounds crazy but I felt the warmth of him, his footsteps and his purring. Another woke me out of sleep, and then I kept feeling his weight and kneading action. So, who knows, maybe your darlings are here or there, near you.

    • northwestrain says:

      I know what you mean — Hungarian Komadore would lean against me — and after he was gone I had the same feeling but when I reached down to scratch his head . . . . air. Muscle memory — I don’t know? But it has happened with other furkids.

    • ecocatwoman says:

      I had somewhat similar experiences after losing Casey and Cindy many years ago. Unexplainable & I certainly can’t explain it – whether it’s real or not. For me, it doesn’t matter because it was comforting. I don’t doubt, from your comments, that your visits had the same effect on each of you. Heck, there’s a lot “out there’ we still don’t understand.