Little Cleo

I’m currently haunted by what happened on Thursday. I’m hoping that if I write about it all and share a few photos I’ll move on. Writing about it won’t be easy and I’m not sure I’ll keep this. I might keep the photos and delete the writing eventually.

We were having a normal Wednesday evening, watching trash TV. Cleo was curled up asleep in her usual spot of the poof/footstool in front of us. Suddenly she seemed to jump up and fall off the footstool. She scrabbled around and ran behind the sofa. It was so abrupt. I got up and said “What’s wrong with her?” She seemed to have been frightened by something. She had been unwell for a week but it didn’t seem serious and we were going to take her to the vets days before but the money got swallowed by a bill. So we were waiting for my pay day which was Friday. Anyway, she’s behind the sofa and she seems to be lying on her side scratching it as cats do. Only Cleo never did that. Mike was freaked out after looking at her behind the sofa. He asked me what she was doing. I had a closer look. She wasn’t playing. She was having a seizure. We were horrified. We actually hid behind the lounge door, frozen and peeking through the door. We went back in and Mike told me she was dead. I looked closer at her and saw her breathing. Relief. We can take her to the vets tomorrow if we borrow some money. After a couple of minutes she came around but she wasn’t the same. Her coordination was gone and she just wasn’t right. We sat with her briefly, scared. As it was late we decided to go to bed. She’s always slept downstairs because she wasn’t great with the litter tray. So as usual we closed the door and hoped she’d feel better tomorrow.

6am on Thursday, the day that haunts me. We heard the same thud as the night before. My heart sunk. We knew it was another fit. I waited in bed a few minutes before going down to see if she was okay. She was in the conservatory, face down, under the table still alive but once again unconscious. I tried to call a local vets as they had an energency call out vet. I explained to him the situation and he wanted to come out, I told him about our lack of money until Friday (the following day), he said there’s nothing he could do in that case. I went back upstairs and told Mike they weren’t going to help. In between phone calls to the vets I would check up on Cleo. The second time I went down she had moved slightly but this time she was sprawled out in a way that I have never seen before. She was unconscious. The third time I went back down she had moved a little again, Mike was with me because we decided we should move her away from the table. Thankfully she didn’t look so bad this time. We had put a blanket, my dressing gown (her favourite material) and Mike’s work jacket on the lounge floor the night before in hope that she would sleep on the floor safely. I picked up her lifeless body, horrified by the feel of her so limp in my hands. I placed her on the comfy trio of materials on the lounge floor. A little later that morning I went down again to check and make another phone call. She crawled under the TV stand and I thought it was over, poor Cleo was done. She wasn’t though, the little trooper was still alive. I turned to the PDSA for help. They told me they couldn’t do anything but put her to sleep if we couldn’t pay right away. I’m disgusted by that. I could pay the day after! They’re an animal welfare charity! We were all going through torture that morning. Poor baby Cleo didn’t deserve what she was going through and we were broken watching her. The seizures were relentless. Cleo was soaked by saliva and stomach fluid. She was destroyed. She occasionally got up and crawled around aimlessly. She was an empty shell. Whenever she made contact with anything she stopped and did nothing. I had stupid balloons from the baby shower scattered everywhere. They were in the way of her zombie-like walk. I called the RSPCA and it seemed promising. They were going to speak to a vets near us and call me back. I stoked her head as she lay in the conservatory, soaking wet and broken. The RSPCA called back to say they could help. After around 5 hours of torture someone was going to help our gorgeous kitten. They told us where to go and to go there right away. Cleo was stuck on the fly screen on the back door. I struggled freeing her from it. She was so wet and just utterly ruined from endless seizures. We got her free and got her in her pet carry bag and on the back seat of the car. I went into the vets alone whilst Mike parked the car. She looked dead in her cat bag. The vet came out and whisked her away. They had given her medication which stopped the seizures. That seemed positive. After a short time a different vet called us in. She said things weren’t looking good and told us what she suspected was wrong. There were a few theories. She asked me a load of questions and I signed to admit her for the night. The first step was monitoring her and doing blood tests. We got back in the car and both cried. We went to Starbucks for an hour then back home. After around 2 hours the vet called. She talked for a bit about her liver which she had mentioned before. She told me that the kindest thing was to put her to sleep. I agreed to it and she asked if I wanted to hold her whilst they did it. I couldn’t. I would have bawled my eyes out hysterically if I had held her. The call was done. I told Mike we’d lost her and just cried. I got up and for some reason I went for a shower, probably just to be alone.

We’re heartbroken. That poor little cat didn’t deserve the hell she went through. I can’t get the shaking and the sprawled out postition and the lifeless walking out of my head. Tears are streaming again. We loved her and she’s gone now. Her life was cut so short. I wish she was still here. I wish she hadn’t suffered. I wish vets cared more. 

 Cleo was gone after that seizure on Wednesday night. I really hope she slept before the horrific morning on Thursday.  The seizures weren’t going to kill her but they weren’t going to stop. She would have died of starvation and dehydration. It’s horrendous and I’m devastated.

It was such a horrendous day. She adored Mike, I took many pictures of them together because she was always lying on him.

We are going to donate to the RSPCA, our light at the end of the tunnel.

We love you baby Cleo. R.I.P beautiful cat ❤

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