Eli

December 23, 2012 (6:45 am)

I held Eli on the bathroom floor while he lay limp and struggled to breathe. I was sure he'd take his last breath there.

Adam found me sitting in the middle of the bathroom floor, which smells like urine because Eli has been hiding out in a box in the closet and can't make it outside. We've done antibiotics, lanced the abscess on his neck, ear drops for the deep, terrible ear infections, and now we're awaiting the results of a lymph node test, because our vet suspects cancer.

Eli's face and nose and neck are puffy, and my face and eyes are starting to match because of my uncontrollable sobbing, after holding him for 30 minutes and realizing I don't know what to do to help him.

Adam sat down next to me and asked, "Are you okay, Momma? Do you need medicine?" He's two.

I told him I was sad because Eli was very sick, and I love him.

Adam put his head near Eli's and gently stroked the top of his head between his ears. "Hi, Eli."

"Be easy with him," I said.

Eli had fallen asleep in my arms despite the noise and commotion. Adam began to get concerned, and whined sadly, "Wake up, Eli. Eli, wake up." I began to cry again.

Adam got up and put the hood to my sweatshirt on my head. "Momma, you need your hat?" He then went and laid down on the floor with his head on his blankie.

Feeling the nastiness of the floor and needing to find a way to keep my legs from falling asleep, I picked Eli up and we moved to our bed. Eli didn't like it at first, but was in no position to put up a fight and curled up next to me on my left. Adam is snuggled between my legs, watching Curious George.

Eli breathes slowly and shallowly next to me while I rest my hand on his shoulder. I have told him how much I love him, what a great cat he is, and thanked him for loving my babies. I have cried and told him I'm so sorry we haven't been able to help him, and begged him to tell me how to help him now. He only breathes, and mews uncomfortably every now and then.

He called for me this morning at 5 am from the closet, meowing urgently and then stumbling out of the closet and lying on the bath rug in pain. I stroked his back for a while and thought through all I could possibly do for him. We have been to the vet three times in the last two weeks; they don't know why he isn't fighting off the infection even with the heavy duty antibiotic shots Shannon has been giving him. It's Sunday, so if we go to a vet it will be an emergency vet, not our vet. And he's miserable, and just wants to be held. I simply cannot put him through a car ride only for them to euthanize him on a table in a cold room.

There's nothing to do but sit very still and hold him, let him know how loved he is, and hope that he can hang on until the test results are back and they tell us that all he has is a minor condition and just needs a little medicine so he can go back to normal.

As I lie here refusing to leave him I remind myself that this isn't sudden and we did all we could... But I know that is an exaggeration. We keep saying Eli has been sick for about a month and a half, but the truth is he's probably been struggling for longer than that and we didn't know it. About a month after the twins were born (six months ago), he removed himself and stayed outside by himself constantly, which wasn't like him. I was overwhelmed with a two year old and twin newborns so I put it to him finding solace from all the people in the house. And even that is a poor excuse- he had no problem with the new babies.

Eli is not in pain anymore, but he is no better. He is lying very still, breathing and resting his whole body against mine. I have things to do today, but can't bear to leave him alone. I am moved enough that he came looking for me, his mom, when he was sick, instead of hiding like most cats do.

But Adam is confused and trying to find out what is going on. He looks up at me and asks, "Momma, did Eli bite you?"

"No, Baby. Eli didn't bite me. Eli is a good cat. He's just very, very sick, and I'm sad because I don't want him to be sick."

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Eli passed away at approximately 6:30 pm on Sunday, December 23. He was 11 years old.

I spent most of the morning cuddling with him, and then from 3-5:30 we napped together. I got up to go wash dishes and spend time with the kids, and when I came back he had crawled from the bed to the closet to pass away. Shannon buried him in the backyard because the thought of anything else made me feel sick.

Eli,

When we adopted you from the San Marcos animal shelter, you didn't hesitate to crawl from the cage directly into my arms, turn over, and start purring. You knew you were mine. You were 10 months old, and even though you and Gus were full grown you became brothers and played together and cuddled together.

People lovingly called you Eeyore because when you meowed it was loud and demanding, and it seemed like you moped around . . . but you did nothing but love us, all of us, and just want to be near us. You never asked for table food but occasionally wouldn't be satisfied unless given a can of tuna, maybe once every two months. You told us when you wanted it and wouldn't stop persisting until your tummy was full of fish.

When I first became pregnant with Adam you had an immediate bond. You sat on my stomach constantly and when you did, Adam would kick and kick. Then when he was born you had a natural attachment to him and he to you.

When Colin came home from the hospital after the RSV, you welcomed him home with lots of cuddles even though Adam was pulling on you and lying on top of you.

You snuggled up to Claire even when she was a tiny tiny little thing and you were twice her size, and she loved it.

You were a member of this family and you will always be loved and missed. Gus has been roaming the house looking for comfort for the last 3 hours, because he feels the loss. Thank you for that one last nap, and for hanging on to let me say good-bye.