Penny's Final Days

The following is the email I sent to our vet an hour and a quarter before Dr. V. came over to send Penny on her way. It reflects the pain, frustration, and bewilderment of the moment as well as gives a pretty thorough description of Penny's last few days.

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Dear Dr. S.,

I just wanted to let you know that Penny stopped eating and drinking on Sunday. She seemed to feel a little better Friday evening after we saw you, so we were optimistic. She and Neil had good kitty lap time Friday night. Saturday seemed fine. I gave her the metacam and amitriptyline Saturday evening and she seemed ok, though she was breathing roughly and didn't really eat like she usually does. We chalked it up to the metacam. She seemed particularly fiesty when we did tumor maintenance, walking away from us, etc.

She threw up Sunday morning after she pooped. I didn't want to upset her further at that time, so I didn't give her the gabapentin until later that day. We thought the nausea was caused by the metacam, so we waited for it to pass. She spent the day enjoying the sunbeams in the window. She didn't seem very interested in food on Sunday night, but we gave her the metacam anyway (maybe a mistake?)

She was very lethargic Monday morning and I carried her out to the water bowl to see if she'd drink. She layed down at the bowl and took a couple sips but that was it. I offered her food, but she wouldn't touch it, so I gave her the amitriptyline on her usual schedule. Then she went and peed in the litter box. She got out of the box for a second and it looked like she was going to poop on the floor (like we were talking about Fri.) so Neil turned her toward the box again. She got part-way into the box, yowled uncomfortably, and then she threw up again. It took her about 10 minutes to recover after that -- lying on the ground, panting, and drooling whitish foam. So, Neil took her in to see Dr. V. yesterday and she took a chest x-ray to see about the breathing. She said there was fluid around her lungs. She tried to drain the fluid, but she was pretty much unsuccessful and found blood in the fluid she did get. She suspected that the cancer had metastasized. She gave her some fluids.

Neil brought Penny home and she got up on the bed and took a nap. She had no interest in food or water at all the rest of the day. She was there until around 8pm when she started dry heaving again. This took a LOT out of her -- she couldn't recover her breathing again for at least 10 minutes. More panting and drooling. She went and hid under the bed after that. We tended to her tumor around 9:30 and she was drooling a bright yellow, bile-like liquid and was very vocal about being manhandled. After that, she sort of seemed to give up. I was able to give her some gabapentin and that seemed to calm her down considerably. There was another bout of heaving with more yellow bile around 10:30. So we called the emergency line and talked to Dr. Sw. who seemed to think that everything was stacked against her. She was very reassuring and comforting.

So, Penny and Neil spent the night together on the floor. Today her breathing is shallow but relatively calm. She dry heaved three times overnight (the last time produced dark yellow bile) and is completely wiped out. She feels cold to the touch -- her tongue, pads on her feet and even her tumor are extremely pale. She does not tolerate being moved. She is clearly suffering.

We are heartbroken and are waiting to see if Dr. V. can possibly come here and take away her pain today. If not, we have an appointment for noon. It is so hard to know that on Friday afternoon she was eating and alert and enjoying sunbeams and laps...and today she is completely empty. She just lies on her side, breathing quietly and staring into space. There is no quality of life. She is very weak.

The worst thought is that we somehow caused this horrible downward spiral by giving her the metacam, which made her lose her appetite and made her nauseous, which caused her to weaken, etc. We wonder if giving her the metacam with food would have made things different. I know that probably isn't the case and that it's probably the cancer and her difficulties breathing, but it's hard to shake the idea. Things just happened so quickly.

We wish things had gone differently, but we have no regrets. We are simply very very sad and don't want to say goodbye.

We wanted to thank you again for all of your help, support, and excellent advice, and we know Penny would thank you too. I will let you know how everything turns out.

Yours,
Hannah & Neil