The End of an Era

As you may or may not be aware, Piggy was euthanized yesterday after a very short illness (resulting in a giant grapefruit-sized tumour that appeared almost overnight).  Pig was a force with which to be reckoned.  Anyone who had any dealings with her will tell you, Princess Pig was a diva who called the shots in every relationship she had (with humans or her other animal buddies).

Anyway, Pig had a brush with death years ago that resulted in some hilarious story-telling material for me.  She had liver failure and stopped eating.  I had to force-feed her with a syringe after a very pricey stay at the emergency vet clinic.  You can imagine how well that went.  I blogged about it then and would like to share the hilarity of it now:

From 2007:

OPEN WIDE... CHOO CHOO... HERE COMES THE TUNA TRAIN!!!!

Picture if you will: A sickly feline, a devoted cat-mom, a can of wet food, a towel, and a syringe. No good could come of this scenario.

Piglet is home under the condition that I FORCE-FEED a can of wet food every day. Her liver is in a state of self-repair, and a lack of nutrients will make her regress, undoing all the progress we've made thus far. As much as her name might indicate otherwise, Piglet is not really a big eater. She likes a lot of different kinds of food (her favourite for begging purposes: applesauce), but does not really eat beyond her capacity for storage. She will beg for something but when I finally submit to her pleas, she will sniff the food at hand, look at me, then walk away. It is, in fact, all about the successful hunt for her, as opposed to the enjoyment of the actual prize. This is why it is so difficult to force-feed the Pig. She doesn't want it.

I have been instructed to wrap her little kitty-body in a towel -nice and tight -as if she were a feline burrito. I am then to suck up, into a syringe, a bunch of watered down wet-food, at which point I am supposed to hold her down, open her mouth, and inject the nutritious morsels into the back of her throat. No problem. Sounded like a well laid out plan. Yeah. One factor that comes into play here, though: THIS IS THE PIG AND PIG DOESN'T DO WHAT PIG DOESN'T WANT TO DO. She has made it very clear to me that this whole feeding thing goes way beyond the boundaries of our relationship -as if I am in breech of some contract, for which she will plot, and eventually seek vengeance. For those of you who don't know the Pig, she is a feline version of Stewie Griffin (a la Family Guy). She schemes, she plots, and she has enough attitude to shame a classroom full of tenth grade girls. She is furious about our new dinner dates and expresses her opinion in no uncertain terms. When she's not hissing and growling at me as I try to nourish her poor depleted frame, she is violently shaking her head from side to side, making it nearly impossible for me to cram her yap full of tuna-like goodness. What DOES make it into her mouth may or may not remain there, as she has somehow learned to close her throat, and to spit the remnants back out at me. By the end of each feeding session, we are both drenched head to toe in cat food. I feel bad for her, but it's called tough love -and any decent parent out there will know that sometimes you have to be a hard ass for the benefit of all involved.

I love my Pig. Clearly. I wouldn't be doing this for shites and giggles. Put it this way, after the amount of money that went into her little 10.7lb body this week, in addition to my blood, sweat and tears over this food thing, she's damned lucky she's cute. Oh... who am I kidding? She's my "fur child". Of course I'm going to do what I can to help her survive. Any pet owner (a REAL pet owner) would do the same. So, I guess I will continue on the path to wellness, and do my parental duty -albeit unpleasant for both of us. I will continue to wear regurgitated MediCal with pride, knowing that I am a good mom, and I'm sure, despite the spitting, growling, and hissing, Piggy thinks so too. 

Godspeed, little Pig.

HAVE YOUR SAY: Have you ever had to make the decision that "enough was enough" when it came to a treatment for a pet?