Our beloved Gingerbread is no longer with us. He passed away yesterday afternoon at the vet’s office. I am typing this with a heavy heart, I’m absolutely grief-stricken and can barely compose my thoughts.
We went to visit him Friday afternoon, he was hooked up to an IV and very lethargic. As soon as he heard our voices, he started meowing in a cry that we’ve never heard before. We actually thought it was the cat next to him at first, but it was him. Every time we said something to him, he would answer us back with desperation in his meow. The doctor wasn’t there, just the receptionist who came in to ask if that was him answering us when we talked. She thought it was the sweetest thing, and it was. He was far back in the cage and I couldn’t reach him too well with my short arms, but he moved just a bit closer so I could pet him. As soon as I started petting him, he began purring so loud and deeply that I could feel the vibrations on the cage. We said our goodbyes, told him we loved him and missed him and reassured him that he would be coming home soon.
Later in the evening the doctor called us and said that he was doing better this morning when she checked him, he’s keeping his food down, and that we could probably take him home on Monday or Tuesday. We mentioned to her that he seemed very lethargic when we saw him, which surprised her a bit. Dustin and I went to sleep around 9:00PM, then around 11:00PM my mother woke us up. She said the vet just called and said that she’s very concerned about Gingerbread and thought his potassium was too low and his electrolytes were unbalanced. So she gave him some potassium in his IV, but said that he was in critical condition and apologized for calling so late, but she wanted to let us know that he was having a bad night. I couldn’t sleep anymore, I was a nervous wreck all night.
The next morning, the doctor called and said that he was doing a little better, but he’s still in critical condition and she’s trying to stabilize him. She said she spent the whole night with him. Then, at 2:30 in the afternoon she called to say that he just died as she was feeding him. She said that he let out a loud cry, tilted his head back, and stopped breathing. She said that she tried to resuscitate him, but couldn’t. It was almost as though Gingerbread was saying goodbye to us when we saw him on Friday. I’ll never forget his loving purr just before we left. I hope he could sense how much we loved him. He would have turned 10 on July 3rd.
Rest in peace, my darling kitty cat.