Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
A week passed, during which Sonja was constantly reminded of Derek. She started to text him half a dozen times the first day, and bedtime without talking to him was a painful experience. She tried to finish reading A Cricket in Times Square one evening, but dissolved in tears over the book.
When a customer told her a new joke on Wednesday, she had it memorized to share with Derek before realizing that she wouldn’t be seeing him. Friday night, Sonja was watching Frozen when she heard the unmistakable sound of Snuggles retching. She looked over and saw him ridding his stomach of water and bile all over his bed. He jumped out and down to the floor and continued vomiting.
“Snuggles! Baby! What am I going to do with you?” Sonja was off the couch and in the kitchen for rags to clean up the mess. “That’s the second time this week you’ve spit up on your bed. You’re throwing up all the water you’ve drunk. This is so not good. You have to stay hydrated, baby.” Once she was finished, she offered Snuggles some beef baby food. He ate about a tablespoon before turning away. Sonja spent the rest of the weekend babying the cat. She fed him several small meals each day and hoped for signs of improvement.
On Sunday night, she called Suzie. “I might not be in to work tomorrow. Can you manage without me?”
“Of course. What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Suzie asked.
“Not me. Snuggles. He’s hardly eating anything, and he keeps throwing up. I want to take him to the vet as soon as I can get an appointment.” Sonja reached over to pet him while she talked. “I think it’s something serious. He hasn’t purred all day, and he doesn’t want to be in my lap, either.”
“You take care of Snuggles and yourself. We can manage at the café. Call me with updates, please?” Suzie said.
“Sure.” Sonja ended the call and returned her attention to Snuggles.
Monday morning, Sonja was on the phone to Dr. Phillips’ office before they were open. She explained Snuggles’ difficulties keeping anything down and got an appointment for 10:30 am. The morning passed slowly as she spent it with Snuggles next to her on the couch, alternating petting him with reading and worrying.
At ten o’clock, she loaded him into his carrier, once again scared because she could feel so many of his bones. They arrived at the clinic early, but Trudy was expecting them. “Hi, Sonja.”
“Hi, Trudy. I’m glad you remembered.”
“Sorry to see you here again so soon,” she said. “Here comes Tom. We’ve got a room waiting for you.”
“Hello, Ms. Madden,” Tom said. “Right this way.” Sonja followed Tom into a clean, bright exam room. “Let’s get him weighed, and the doctor will be right with you.”
Snuggles allowed Sonja to place him on the scale, where he hunched while Tom got the reading. “Seven-point-two pounds.”
“I’ll get him something to sit on and then get Dr. Phillips.” Tom reached into a cabinet behind him and put down a soft, fluffy towel on the counter next to the scale. Snuggles looked over at it and sniffed carefully before taking a tentative step onto the fabric. Tom left through the staff door and Snuggles relaxed a bit. Sonja stroked him and reassured him that everything would be okay while they waited for the vet.
A soft knock preceded the entrance of Dr. Phillips with Tom at his heels. “I’m so sorry to hear Snuggles is having trouble eating. His weight is down almost a pound from last summer. Let’s take a look, shall we?” Tom came around to the end of the counter and got a firm grip on Snuggles’ head and neck. Dr. Phillips felt the cat’s body thoroughly, checked his eyes and mouth, and listened to his heart and lungs. “I don’t see any new teeth problems, so we can rule that out. I don’t feel anything or hear anything suspicious, either. He’s lost a lot of muscle mass. You say he’s hungry?”
“Yes, he wants to eat, but he takes a few bites and walks away. Half the time, he spits that up a little while later,” Sonja said. “It doesn’t seem to matter what I offer him.”
“We’ll have to do bloodwork to be sure, but I suspect his kidney function is the problem. How much is he drinking?” Dr. Phillips asked.
“A lot, but he throws that up, too,” Sonja said.
They talked a bit more about options, and Sonja decided that it would be wise to get information on Snuggles’ kidney function before going any further.
Tom and another tech drew the cat’s blood for testing. “I’ll call you by the end of the day with the results,” Dr. Phillips said.
“Thank you,” Sonja answered as she put Snuggles back into his carrier for the trip home. “I appreciate all the time you’ve given us.”
It was almost six when the phone finally rang. “This is David Phillips. Sorry to be so late getting back to you, but we had an emergency surgery earlier.”
“That’s all right, Dr. Phillips. What can you tell me about Snuggles?”
“I’m sorry, Sonja, but the news isn’t good. His kidney disease has gone from chronic to acute. You have a couple of options. I know you’re not interested in the kind of treatment that would interfere with Snuggles’ quality of life, so we won’t go into the extreme of a kidney transplant.”
“Oh no, that doesn’t make sense at all. Snuggles is already old, and the surgery would be awfully hard on him.”
“I agree, but I have to tell you the possibilities. I remember you saying he wouldn’t eat the special kidney food, but there are a couple of other things you can try. You can give him fluids several times a week, and we can try an appetite stimulant. Some cats will live for several months or more with subcutaneous fluids, but his phosphorus level is also high, which is making him nauseous even when he’s hungry. You can use the fluids to keep him more comfortable while you wait for nature to take its course, or you can euthanize him. Sorry to be so blunt.”
Sonja sighed. She wasn’t sure she knew how to cope without Snuggles in her life. “I’ve had him since he was a kitten. Do you have any idea how long he would last with the fluids?”
“There’s no way to tell. Has he been any better since you were in this morning?”
“Not really. He kept down some of his food, but he doesn’t look comfortable, even in his favorite spots. I’ll have to think about it. I want to do what’s best for Snuggles,” Sonja said.
“That’s a good way to look at it,” Dr. Phillips agreed. “Do you have any other questions?”
“No. Thank you for calling, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome. Let us know if we can do anything for you.”
“I will.” She ended the call and sat. What should she do? She loved Snuggles. He’d brought comfort to her life from the moment she’d met him. She didn’t want to lose him, but she didn’t want him to suffer, either. What kind of quality of life did he have now, and would the vet’s suggestions improve things enough to be worth the trouble for Snuggles? She wished there was someone she could talk to about it, but she couldn’t think of anyone other than Derek, and they were ‘broken up’. How many of her friends would even try to understand her attachment to a cat? She went back and forth in her mind about the options and what each would mean for her and for Snuggles. After her evening of mental struggle, Sonja finally took Snuggles to bed, her mind made up and her heart heavy.