Philo
A little over three months ago, I excitedly wrote about Philo and Moxie, the two new kittens that my wife, Dana, and I adopted. A few weeks prior, we had lost our beloved cat Mia, whom had been our pet for nearly ten years. We were thrilled to have two such wonderful, energetic animals in our house, and we were looking forward to spending many years getting to know them.
Early this morning, we had to put Philo to sleep. He was a little over six months old.
About two weeks ago, Dana and I noticed that Philo wasn’t quite as energetic as he normally was. He was known for getting into mild mischief by climbing up on our bookshelves or hopping up onto my computer desk to find small items that he could knock to the floor and bat around, but he hadn’t been doing anything like that lately. Figuring that he was simply feeling a bit under the weather, we didn’t worry about this change of behavior too much until it seemed to go on a bit longer than usual. After a few days, we noticed that he felt a bit warm, so we took his temperature (yes, the way you’re imagining). Sure enough, he had a fairly high fever (104.something°).
The next day, November 3, I took Philo to the vet while Dana was at work. They took his temperature again, and it had risen a bit into the 105° range. Severely high temperature aside, the vet also expressed concern with Philo’s relatively large abdomen, which Dana and I had attributed to him getting a little chunky. The vet used a syringe to take a sample from Philo, and she discovered that his gut wasn’t getting large with fat; it was fluid.
This was a sure sign that Philo was suffering from a disease called feline infectious peritonitis (FIP) that is caused by a mutated virus in the cat’s system. It’s a fairly rare disease (roughly 1 in 5000 cats suffer from it), and it only strikes very young or very old cats. This big problem is that it is currently incurable and always fatal. There are actually two forms of the disease, commonly dubbed “wet” and “dry.” Philo had the more common “wet” form which, sadly, is the faster acting of the two.
The vet told me that when a cat is diagnosed with FIP, they usually have to be put to sleep within a month, but two weeks or less is more realistic. With this knowledge, there was little we could do for Philo but try to make him comfortable as his body slowly began to shut down.
Philo lasted six days after his diagnosis, and it was tremendously difficult on Dana and I. Sure, we “only” had Philo for three months, but in that time, we had grown incredibly attached to him (my frequent nickname for him was “little buddy”).
During his last week, Philo’s health seemed to randomly rise and fall. One day, he would barely move, only occasionally getting up to nibble on his food, drink a little water, and use his litter box. At times like these, Dana and I were convinced that it was the end. The next day, however, he would be surprisingly alert. He would still be rather lethargic, but he would have a sudden burst of energy and start to play like he did when he was healthy. This would convince Dana and I that he might be able to fight through for another week or two.
This cycle continued until last Friday when we noticed that he had stopped eating. We figured that his swollen abdomen might be putting pressure on his stomach, making it uncomfortable to eat. Indeed, it made it difficult for him to turn around to groom his hindquarters. We set up an appointment on Saturday to have the fluid drained.
The next day, the vet drained him, removing about 2/3 of a liter of fluid from his lower body. He initially perked up immediately afterward, which gave Dana and I hope, but despite his regained ability to groom himself, he continued to not eat. With his weight and energy levels dramatically dropping over the weekend, the vet advised us to attempt to feed him with a food syringe, which we did on Sunday afternoon. He seemed to enjoy it at first, so things were looking up. Unfortunately, late Sunday night, everything began to fall apart.
Philo vomited up the food that we had given him earlier in the day, along with his pills. He then spent the night periodically coughing up saliva, which had turned thick and foamy. He also wandered over to his cat bed and urinated in it. This was the only time that he had ever not used his litter box.
When he was first diagnosed, the vet told me that FIP strikes hard and fast. Things may seem OK one minute, and the next, everything breaks down. She also told me that some signs that he is ready to go would be a lack of eating, vomiting, and incontinence–all of which Philo was suddenly suffering from.
It was time. As soon as the vet opened this morning, we called and filled them in on our situation. Within minutes, Dana and I were standing in a room, petting our dear Philo for the last time as he slowly went to sleep.
He was far too young for this to happen, and it was far too soon after Mia’s death. Dana and I have been crying an awful lot this week.
Philo was a pretty fantastic cat. When we first saw him, we were instantly charmed by his large, hairy ears and the little mark on his lip that made it look like he had been sipping coffee and stained his fur. We also loved that he was so close to his sister, Moxie. Moxie, by the way, is most likely safe from getting FIP. We had her checked out immediately after Philo was diagnosed.
Philo was trouble, but never harmful trouble. Like I mentioned, he simply loved to explore and climb where he probably shouldn’t. He was also extremely active and very playful. We didn’t have to worry about Philo clawing up the furniture or anything like that, but he might give you a friendly nip on the finger when you were petting him.
I do take some comfort in the fact that both Dana and I got some quality time with Philo before he died. A couple nights ago, he cuddled on our bed with Dana for hours as she played Zuma’s Revenge on her laptop. Last night, he sat on my lap for a few hours as I wrote an article for work (a review of Rabbids Go Home for G4). Of course, I was frequently distracted by my need to pet the little guy, but I’m exceptionally glad that I never took him off of my lap so that I could better concentrate. Moxie also gave Philo a few licks on his face before we took him off to the vet this morning. It was simultaneously the sweetest and most depressing thing that I have ever seen. Dana and I both lost it when it happened.
Luckily, we have lots of pictures of Philo and even a few videos, so there is plenty to remember him by. And of course, we still have Moxie, who I must admit has made dealing with this loss a bit easier. The video I am posting below is the last footage that I recorded of Philo. It was recorded on November 5, two days after his diagnosis. This was one of his aforementioned bursts of energy that showed Dana and me that he wasn’t ready to check out just yet.
He was such an awesome cat. I miss him.
Recent Comments