The night Max lay dying
His sides moved in and out, each breath he took an effort. His will to survive was strong in his lean, gaunt frame. He refused to eat or drink anything, and he never slept.
Breathing took all of her effort, each breath a loud screeching noise throughout the room. Every few minutes she would get up and change her position from side to lying on her stomach.
My mind took me back to the earlier days of an energetic, well built and beautiful three year old feline companion.
I looked at him through my tears and recognized only a shadow of what he had once been. He had always wanted to be in my lap, to be stroked and held. He was very much like a child, wanting and needing all the affection he could get.
My mother and stepfather had come to the house to visit my sister and me. It was the first time I had seen them since I moved to this city, London.
The day I moved here from Windsor, I picked up my cat, Max, after spending the night at Clearwater Animal Hospital. It had been neutralized the day before.
I tried to strike up a conversation with my mother and her husband, since they had traveled a long distance to visit us, but my eyes kept drifting to Max. I was angry and grieved grieved and it hurt terribly to see him suffer.
I had even been praying for him and at church that morning I named him on my title envelope for a special prayer. I had planted my seed in the church and knew that God would pull through somehow. Although the day was dark, he had not lost hope.
Throughout Max’s difficult time, his mate, Fierce, and their kittens came up to him, touched his nose, and lay down close to him. They seemed to know that he was very ill.
I went to my daughter’s house to take care of her children while she was at work. He was so upset that he could barely think straight.
My sister called me after I had been at my daughter’s house for a couple of hours, to tell me that she had gotten worse.
She was lying on her side, her ribs going up and down, and she had started to vomit; she seemed to be in shock.
I called and narrowed my search to the only animal hospital open at that time in the morning, since it was after 12 midnight. They were an after-hours emergency clinic.
They would appraise my cat for $98. My daughter, Lisa had called me and told me that she was leaving work early, she was worried about her mother. She had $10 in my name that night, but she gave me the rest, including the cab fare to and from the hospital. What a blessing and true gem she is!
I got to my house and approached Max. He was half lying, half sitting on his stomach, a towel draped across his back.
My niece had heard somewhere that cats when they are injured or sick lose their body heat and so she tried to keep it warm.
I put it on his bike rack and in the cab, gave the driver the address of the night clinic, and my friend, Carole, and I drove off.
Arriving at the clinic and seeing Max, I was so terrified that the clinic would say there was nothing they could do for Max, so I asked my friend to come with me.
I was hoping to get medicine for him, but he was a very sick cat. He was critical, the prognosis was not good, they told me. He was immediately put in an IV line and given oxygen.
I told them that I only had the $98 and no other money. I told the vet to do everything she could with the money she had. They told me they don’t accept any type of payment plan, but I still didn’t lose hope.
They suggested euthanasia as an option and I told them I didn’t believe in that.
The doctor was young, compassionate, and seemed to care about my cat’s condition. She kept insisting on the help she needed, but when I told her that she didn’t have money for more tests, she kept talking about her condition.
She asked me if there was anyone, she could borrow the money. I told him no, at that time there was no one. They couldn’t even give me medicine for him.
They took an x-ray and showed it to me, only part of the x-ray was dark. The rest looked hazy or whitish, and should have been all dark. She said it looked like a heart condition, pneumonia, or infection, and without further tests or ultrasounds it was a guessing game. She told me that if she took him home he would probably die. The prognosis was not good, they kept getting stressed.
My head was pounding, my nerves were stretched beyond bearing, and I was so upset that I barely understood what he was saying. It was hard to understand that my beloved Max was dying; my tears flowed freely.
I told him that I realize I have to be practical, but if my hands are tied, all I can do is pray, the rest is up to God.
I told her that I would like to make some phone calls, so I went to the reception area, thinking of calling my mother. He had seen Max and saw how upset she was. I begged him to help me and Max. She was my only hope. She finally told me, “I hate to see you so upset, I’ll help you.”
I was so relieved that I just cried and thanked him over and over again. That same day she had caught some tears in her eyes when she was visiting. She was an avid animal lover, and she had previously been forced to put down a dog and a cat, and it nearly broke her heart.
She told me that she would pay the cat fee and that I could settle it with her later. I gave the hospital the financial details and it was resolved.
The ER clinic told me that they would continue to give him oxygen and monitor him throughout the night. I could pick him up in the morning and take him to a day hospital for further follow-up and tests. It was three in the morning before my friend Carole, and I went home.
The next morning when I arrived at the emergency room they asked me if I had found a day hospital to take him. I said I couldn’t afford any more money. I would just take him home with his medication. They told me to wait and the vet would talk to me.
I knew what was coming, so I heard the vet tell me once again how sick he was, that he would not recover with medication alone. He told me that he needed more tests, medication, and follow-up.
I told the vet that I had just moved to London and didn’t know anyone I could take him to, and that lack of money was also a problem.
The vet told me to wait and left the room. He returned moments later with a flyer in hand and told me to call this number. He pointed to a highlighted number and so I called them and they gave me an appointment to bring it.
I called my mother on the phone and gave her the prognosis for Max according to the doctor, and she approved the treatment for the second hospital. Max spent the day at Nordale Animal hospital, he was given medication and monitored. He didn’t need oxygen.
Dr. Goover is an excellent doctor; he went above and beyond the call of duty exhibiting rare traits of compassion, sympathy, and care. I could tell from the way he handled Max that he loves animals. This wonderful doctor kept my expenses down when he didn’t have to.
I think this doctor is hurt and will continue to be hurt because it shows that he cares about his animals and their owners.
I asked for a progress report four hours later. He was getting better and had eaten some food from the technicians. I could take it home.
When I returned with Max to the house, Fierce and her four kittens met me at the door. Fierce, a black and rust-colored cat tried to peek inside the carrier. I placed the transporter in the living room and opened the door freeing Max. They all touched his nose, to see if he was okay, they were happy to see him. He greeted Fierce and then stepped right under the sofa, a safe and warm place.
Today Max is taking medication, it is not yet known if he will take it for the rest of his life. The doctor told me that he was still a very sick cat. If it wasn’t for his heart, when he finished the medication he would be fine. If it was his heart, then he would be on medication for the rest of his life.
Having Max here and taking medicine is better than not having Max at all.
I would like to thank both hospitals for their excellent care for my pet. My mother helped me when no one else could. If most people knew how much it costs to bring my cat back to life, they would say put it down.
I believe that our animals are entrusted to us for their welfare and protection. We are responsible for them. If there is a way to help them, then we should explore all avenues.
If all doors were closed in Max’s case, then euthanasia would have to be considered due to his difficulty breathing. But not while there is help from someone.
If my mother had said no, Max would not have survived.
He really was in God’s hands, all the way. Remains. I told the Lord… there is no glory in death, but in life. Please heal my pet, you did it Father God, you heal him. The Bible tells us, “Command me,” and that is why I have taken it literally.