Many of you following this blog knew Colonel Mustard. He was our big tan and white cat--affectionately called "fat boy." He had been very sick and tonight I had him put to sleep.
Colonel Mustard had been struggling with constipation and dehydration for over a year. Last week he was in the vet every day except Thursday. He had not been eating since Sunday. Today he was very lethargic, out of sorts, and seemed to be in pain. He had very watery, smelly diarrhea shortly after I gave him his daily dose of subcutaneous fluids.
I talked to our regular vet around 8:30 PM to discuss and set up a visit for tomorrow morning. I went to bed early and shortly after, Colonel Mustard scooted into the bedroom (he's not allowed in the bedroom), laid on the floor, and meowed. He never meows. He squeaks. I woke Becky up and told her I was going to take him to the emergency vet. I called around and decided to take him to the University since they have access to the best doctors.
The doctor who saw him gave him a very poor prognosis. He did a preliminary ultrasound which showed fluid in his abdomen and abnormal "stuff" around his intestines. His lymph nodes were huge. His red blood count was half what it was 4 days ago (we had just done a full CBC/chem workup on Friday evening). All signs pointed to either a bowel/colon perforation and sepsis or cancer that had turned acute. An x-ray and remote radiology consult later, we were no closer to understanding what was going on. He was spiraling fast, though, and was very weak and totally disoriented.
We discussed additional diagnostic options (which would have cost a small fortune), potential treatments, and his short and long-term prognosis. The best they could do would be to get him back to the way he was on Saturday before he stopped eating--which would still leave him with a problematic colon and potentially fatal cancer. We also talked about minimal care until the morning when I could take him to my regular vet. The doctor didn't think he'd make it until the morning and if he did, he wouldn't be able to tolerate surgery or many treatment options.
I called Becky to discuss and we decided to let him go. The doctor euthanized him shortly after 2:00 AM. I held him as he passed peacefully and immediately.
He was a fantastic cat and a genuine member of the family. I am so sad for Maia. She really loved him and I know she'll be so confused. We will try to take comfort knowing that we did the best we could for him and that he isn't suffering any more.
Hi Becky & Ben,
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this great website. Both Dan and I are praying for you and your little growing family. I am sorry to hear about the cat also. I know how hard it is to lose a pet. They really do become a member of the family. Becky, take care of yourself and those little babies!
I am very sorry to hear about that Ben. I remember in Dover when I was visiting you and Becky how he would ruff up the carpet for you and just plaster himself to anyone who would walk by. He was such a sweet cat, Emma and I loved him a lot.
I know how hard it is to have to make the decision to put an animal down, I balled when I had to do it with both Sadie and Mitts.
I am so sorry, you all. C. Mustard was a great cat, I'm glad that I got to meet him. I just found out an hour ago that my grandpa died today. They discovered he had a tumor in his colon and possibly cancer. Sounds a little like poor C. Mustard. The cycle of life is not easy. So sorry.
I'm very sorry to hear about C. Mustard's passing.
So sorry to hear of Col. Mustard. It is these moments that also make pets so special as teachers of our children in the lessons of life. Maia may be too young, but what a gentle way to experience death for the first time through a loving pet rather than a grandparent. And how wonderful to have loved a pet so much that it matters to you when they pass, too many people do not experience this joy or loss in their lives. You have been truly blessed!