I’m Not Dead Yet

August 2005. His collar and tag phase was short-lived.

Today marks the 18th anniversary of Spencer’s “Gotcha Day” and also his 20th birthday (observed). Thinking back to August of 2005 when I picked him up from the Town Lake Animal Shelter, he was a frisky two year old and I was in my still sorta frisky late forties.  Fast forward to today and I’m set to begin receiving Social Security benefits in a few weeks.  Spencer would have already been drawing his long before now if he was eligible which brings me to a couple of fun feline facts:

Cats are aged in human years differently from dogs.  Instead of the standard one dog year to seven human years (which varies by breed), all cats are considered pretty much the same and are aged on a sliding scale with 15 years for the first year of life, 10 years for the second year and after that, 4 years for every cat year. Using those guidelines Spencer is approximately 97 years old in human years.  Also, he’s not a senior cat, he is a geriatric one. Cats between the ages of 11-14 years are considered senior; 15 years and older and they are classified as geriatric.  Spencer says, “Grow old or go home!”

2023 has not been easy. On more than one occasion since the beginning of the year I was prepared to call the vet to come to the house and read him the last rites. However, every time I have tried to write his obituary he’d look at me like that character in Monty Python and the Holy Grail as if to say, “I’m not dead yet.”

He was always remarkably healthy until about four years ago when the results from his annual wellness exam showed the early stages of kidney disease.  That required a change in diet and subsequently a change in routine.  Gone were the carefree days of filling up his bowl with the same kibble every morning and letting him graze throughout the day.   The new regimen required opening cans of prescription wet food on demand and mixing them with various toppers to make it more palatable. Sometimes that worked, sometimes it didn’t.  And water, lots of water, from whatever source that would prompt him to take a drink; a fountain bowl, a Pyrex pie plate, a rocks glass, the bathroom sink, the toilet and my favorite, the garden hose with a sprayer attached to it that he discovered one day while I was watering.  During that phase he would get up in the morning while it was still dark, ask to go outside, then walk straight to the faucet and wait for me to turn it on while holding a flashlight.  This was before I even had my morning coffee. He has always had me well-trained.

August 2023. Cool cat 0n a 108 degree day.

His health was stable until the beginning of this year.  On New Year’s weekend he became lethargic and stopped eating altogether.  A trip to the animal hospital the following Monday confirmed that he was in late-stage renal failure.  The vet pumped him full of fluids, vitamins, antibiotics and steroids and it propped him back up for a while.  He had another sinking spell in May and received the same regimen of treatment with mostly the same results and then another episode in July with more limited treatment but fairly good results.  The intervals between treatments are becoming shorter and the effective options fewer.  I know this cycle can continue for only so much longer.

Amazingly, I have never been faced with an end-of-life decision regarding a beloved animal companion.  The only other cat I’ve had as an adult, Mr. Kitty, did the ultimate Irish exit. He died in his sleep on the living room sofa in the middle of the night. When I found him the next morning I touched his lifeless body and mumbled, “Thank you.”  While I mourned his passing, I was grateful to be spared the additional heartache.  I don’t expect to be that fortunate this time.

And when will that be?  I’ve heard/read that they’ll let you know.  Given that Spencer has never been hesitant or vague in letting me know what he wants be it breakfast, treats or a lap to curl up in, I can only hope that he will show the same resolve with his final request.  But until that time comes I will treat each day as a gift filled with gratitude and tempered with reality.  Happy Birthday from one old guy to another, my fine feline friend.