Riding the Regional Transit light rail train home earlier this afternoon, I watched the scenery go by as if reality was moving along to a script I had no part in controlling. The walk home was windy, dusty, and moderately hot. Dawn burst into tears as I entered; we departed shortly thereafter for the Watt Avenue Pet Hospital. There, our 14 week kitten Pumpkin Monster was rapidly deteriorating.
The Feline Leukemia Virus, or FeLV, is an ancient virus, perhaps as old as 10,000,000 years. It is a retrovirus, merging into existing cells and copying when they do. It is the most lethal feline germ-based virus; cancer, immune system destruction, and rapid reduction of red blood cell counts are the most common result of a FeLV takeover.
The eight-week kitten we came to call Pumpkin Monster caught our attention early in the evening of Thursday, July 31. Her cries came in clearly through our front screen door. I mimicked her cries; after much hesitation, she cautiously began eating from a dish of prepared wet food.
It would take a week of continuous feeding and encouragement before she trusted us. She slept to the side of our porch, under the walkway where it was cool during the hottest parts of the day, and occasionally bounded away into the tall native grasses in our front yard. In the evening, she peered into the darkness as several local possums rustled in the dried leaves and tree branches.
She had arrived with a kitty cold; her nose was runny, she sneezed, she scratched her ears regularly, and her eyes teared. Once stroked, however, an instant purring engine came to life, continuous and affectionate. When I came home from work, I would find Dawn waiting for me, sitting with her back to the front door, holding Pumpkin Monster on her lap. She had found her home. It was not long before we knew two things: (1) she was definitely a stray; and (2) she was probably going to become our third cat.
She loved to play. The fiber-weave front doormat was a favorite place to scratch. The long-stemmed leaves were a toy to paw at. A newly-purchased chicken bobble-toy became a sparring partner.
On her first visit to the vet (Mon, Aug 10) she received a complete and thorough exam. Her ears were filled with Acarexx earmite treatment. She received her first FVRCP/FELV combo vaccine shot. Her feces were checked. She received a FeLV + FIX combo shot. She was dewormed, given Clavamox antibiotic drops, and erythromycin ophth ointment. It was at this exam that the vet determined she was approximately eight weeks of age, placing her birth date arbitrarily at June 10.
Shortly after getting her checked, we brought her into our home for closer care. She responded well to the treatments. As she recovered, we began to learn her character traits. When excited, her tail became a wiggle-whip, quickly flying from one side to the other. She was a quiet cat most of the time, rarely startled, and very curious. Her head would turn one way and then the other as I cooked meals.
On Mon, Aug 31, we returned to the vet. She had started sneezing again. She received a prescription of Zeniquin 25 mg antibiotic, a FeLV annual vaccination, a FVRCP second vaccination, and a secondary deworming.
We were to continue for ten days with the Zeniquin, and her condition seemed to improve. Around Sun, Sep 6, she started showing symptoms of sickness again: sneezing occasionally, tired, picking at food. We re-started her regimen of anti-biotics, medicated nasal decongestant, and anti-herpes meds, along with a liquid vitamin booster.
After minimal improvement, we returned to the vet on Thu, Aug 10. The vet examined her and noted she had lost weight. He reported strong heart and lung vitals, however, and requested we continue with our regimen and weigh her weekly to see if she improved.
Her condition continued to deteriorate, however. Eating was intermittent and a struggle. Often, it would come up as vomit. She was so lethargic she wetted her sleeping area. Drinking water was a lengthy process. Clearly, something was wrong. On Wed, Aug 16, Dawn brought her back to the vet. Bio-checks were done: a blood sample was taken, a urinalysis was requested of us after she failed to offer up a sample during her stay. The vet prescribed Cyproheptadine HCl tablets, 4 mg, to stimulate her appetite. Dawn was provided a monster syringe and instructed on how to inject 35 mL of fluid into her in one go. We were also given five cans of Science Diet A/D high-fat and protein food, which we were instructed to make into a slurry and feed her using a syringe.
The next day, Thu, Aug 17, today, the worst news possible arrived. The blood work showed Pumpkin Monster's red blood cells composed 10% of her total blood volume; the average level in a healthy kitten is 28%. Her blood was filled with toxins. All signs pointed to chronic kidney failure, an irreversible and fatal prognosis. The vet noted he had felt the kidneys and Pumpkin Monster had not registered pain, another red flag. Dawn walked Pumpkin Monster back to the vet for immediate treatment.
We were given the choice of a blood transfusion and hospitalization, which would take 2-3 days and cost $1,500-$1,700, or euthanasia. In the vet's experience, with such a severe prognosis, nothing in-between was worth pursuing. The probability was low but possible the blood transfusion would work. Due to staffing shortages, the Watt Ave Pet Hospital would unfortunately be unable to immediately retrieve necessary supplies; the nearest place to procure them was Dixon, CA, a 35 minute trip by car from our home.
Dawn and I discussed our options by phone. We decided to go for the blood transfusion and hospitalization. I would return home early and together we would drive to Dixon, CA and retrieve the needed supplies.
Dawn called back shortly thereafter; the vet had discovered another finding from the blood work: Pumpkin Monster had tested positive for FeLV, the Feline Leukemia Virus. While still grim, this prognosis was better than chronic renal failure. A FeLV-positive cat might live for many months, even several years, with proper care. However, the next news proved heartbreaking.
The veterinarian had consulted with an feline internal medicine expert; both reached the conclusion dehydration alone could not account for Pumpkin Monster's blood toxicity levels. It was overwhelmingly likely the FeLV virus had triggered cancerous growths in her kidneys. In addition, she had black diarrhea, which indicated her intestine was ulcerating, and she was losing blood cells that way too. The doctor described her future: a blood transfusion every 3-4 weeks; as her condition worsened, she would eventually require one every 3-4 days. Dawn and I discussed the latest news over the phone. The news left us numb. I would come home and be with Dawn and Pumpkin Monster.
A short time later, as I sat on the light rail train, the vet called Dawn back and said Pumpkin Monster was becoming manic in her cage, most likely due to oxygen starvation from a low blood cell count. We had noticed her behavior becoming erratic at home as well over the previous three days; she would wander through the house and crawl to the living room window ledge and cry, then attempt to climb up the glass.
The vet receptionist recognized us and quickly directed us into an examination room. Our vet walked in and briefly discussed the prognosis and we told him we had decided to choose a peaceful end for Pumpkin Monster. A few moments later, Pumpkin Monster was brought in wrapped in a blanket. We had heard her crying through the thin walls, but when she saw us she popped her head up and nuzzled us. Dawn held her and we were left alone to say our goodbyes. She was very pale; the anemia had left her paws and nose sallow instead of a healthy pink. We kissed her, stroked her, and listened to her as she attempted to crawl out of the blanket and snuggle closer. She purred for us as best she could; in her weakened condition, they came in interrupted bursts.
One of the attendants we had met during previous visits came in and shared how affectionate she had become of Pumpkin Monster over our visits to the clinic. It was a sweet thing to do, and sincere.
The injection into her IV drip acted quickly. Within 60 seconds, she was gone. Dawn held her and heard a soft groan as her body relaxed. Gently laying her on the table, the doctor listened as her heart slowed, then stopped. We were given as much time as we needed to stay with her after the procedure.
We plan to bury her on Saturday in a small plot of earth near our home, near the spot where she first appeared; our neighbor recommends it as helpful for the grieving process. During a previous loss of a cat, she found grief would strike her in waves; visiting the grave each time helped her feel a sense of connection and closure.
Pumpkin Monster Memories- She frequently escaped from our older cats by hiding in places they could not reach: under our stove; under the kitchen table; under living room chairs; under the bed; behind the washer/dryer.
- Her tail whipped back and forth and wiggled when she became excited
- It took our local hardware store attendant three or four tries to get her nametag engraved. The first time the machine sucked it in unexpectedly and printed only a partial message; the second, he misspelled Pumpkin; finally he got it right. Her tag was in the shape of a heart, because she was such a little kitten with a big heart.
- She played frequently with a bobble chicken and a toy mouse
- Sometimes she chased our 14-pound cat Yoshi around the house; Yoshi often bit and tried to subdue her; it was like a horse standing over a dog. For her safety, we kept them separate.
- Sometimes she slept on a pillow near Dawn's head; other times, she preffered snuggling up to us at night on the bed; during her final nights, she crawled on top of us and slept on our chests.
- Even though she slept all day and felt lethargic, she perked up and seemed happy when I arrived home
- At night, I would hold her and sing silly songs to her while scratching her fur; she seemed to enjoy them.
- When she had more energy, she ferociously attacked the cloth handles on our bed; these handles lift the mattress frame to allow storage under the bed.
- Dawn remembers the first night Pumpkin Monster let Dawn pet her, and how she started purring and how happy she felt to snuggle with her for the first time
- Dawn remembers how during outdoor feeding time initially, she would crawl under Dawn's bent knees and fall asleep as she read a book.
- Dawn remembers hearing her crying; an investigation revealed Yoshi was carrying Pumpkin Monster by the scruff of her neck, like a mommy cat might carry a baby.
- She and Yoshi would pine for each other when separated. Yoshi would look in through an internal window on her in our bedroom. Other times, he might wait patiently outside our bedroom door. Eventually, he learned he could lean on the bedroom door and force it open.
- When I got up in the morning, she would sit patiently on the kitchen floor and watch me cook breakfast. Dawn says I would sing silly songs, such as "curious kat" as she explored inside our cupboards.
- I remember keeping her in the bathroom when we first brought her into our home, with a small cat bed, food and water. We tried this again after she started having accidents later on, but her cries tugged at both our heartstrings; we brought her back into our bedroom and kept her there for the remainder of her time in our home.
- I remember breaking kitten treats into halves to allow her to eat them more easily. We also used Pill Pockets to help her with her quartered pills. At the end, we crushed them, mixed them in a dollop of honey, and placed the honey on her nose. She licked it off and ingested the dosage.
- Pumpkin Monster occasionally went into Squirrel Mode; especially when held too long. Squirrel Mode generally consisted of flailing and scratching with tiny claws until she escaped and was free, at which point she returned to Normal Kitten mode.
- We had various nicknames for her: Pumpkin Friend, Pum Pum, Monster Friend, Pumpkin, Sweet P, Little Monster Friend, Super Friend, and really anything else that crossed our minds.
- With our bedroom door shut, she would play with our other two cats as they reached under the door.
- We would place her on our kitchen table while we ate if she seemed to express interest in what we were doing. She would walk around and investigate. I think she tried nibbling at bread we had, and maybe at pasta/lentils. Mostly, she was a big fan of tinned kitten food though.
- She was extremely light to pick up. At most, she weighed 3.3 pounds.
- She had an orange coat, with tabby stripes. Along her back, she had a slightly darker orange coloration. Her ears had sort of brownish tips on her ears. Our vet remarked how rare it was for an orange kitten to be female.
- She would crawl under our walkway during the heat of the day; Dawn would look and see two little eyes peeping out. She would eventually crawl out and stretttttch, then look at Dawn expectantly for foodies.
- I remember watching her follow around our neighbor's adult cat in the evening, shadowing him and attempting to bond with him.
- She would play with our other cats' large kibble cat food, batting it around the floor like a toy. These kibbles would end up in all parts of the house, from the hallway to the bedroom.
- She would attempt to suckle on Dawn's fingers.
- Pumpkin Monster found our wicker garbage baskets in the living room a convenient and cozy protective toy. She would rock back and forth in them.
- She would scratch and gnaw playfully at our front porch mat.
- She was really fond of our round red pillow in our living room.
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