A lot has happened in my life since my last update (as always, I seem to really struggle with being timely with a lot of these). I was planning to write a huge update for my Australia trip but then I ended up writing a post about Tobi instead.
The short update is that my cat Tobi passed away. This post is really me processing what happened and memorializing his life and legacy.
What happened
I ended up writing about Tobi because a few days before I left for Australia he was hospitalized for kidney disease. I had noticed a couple weeks before his annual exam that he was eating a little less than normal but he was otherwise acting fine, so I brought it up during the exam and they did labs on top of his usual checkup. The labs showed marked kidney disease and my primary vet sent me with him to the veterinary emergency room to get him on supportive therapy. He was rehydrated and came home the next day with some new medications to help encourage him to stay eating and drinking, but I did spend a lot of the trip worried about him because he was still recovering when I left. My parents did a fabulous job taking care of him and struggling to pill him multiple times a day to make sure he was in good health. During his follow up he had gained weight and we thought this was just going to be something we’d have to do long term, and we did, for some time.
About two weeks ago he was hospitalized again because he stopped eating and we found that his kidney disease had progressed significantly since his last follow-up labs in February (his BUN/creatinine skyrocketed from about stage 2 to end stage). There wasn’t much that the hospital could do besides more fluids and monitoring, and after a day of that his kidney values didn’t improve that much so I decided to bring him home from the hospital where he would be more comfortable and in a familiar environment. I began even more supportive therapy, including daily subcutaneous injections and transdermal medication, oral medication 3 times a day, and a lot of close monitoring with weighing his food at every meal and recording how much he was eating. Less than a week after he was hospitalized, he had an episode at home and I had to rush him to emergency again. I won’t get into the details, but it was very obvious that something serious happened. The follow up labs showed that his kidney values had come down almost back to his baseline from February, so they think his emergency was due to a clot instead. The tricky thing about managing Tobi’s kidney disease was that he also had a heart murmur; the problem with treating kidney disease with a lot of fluids is that the extra fluid can put a strain on the heart and lead to heart failure instead. It felt like we were trying to control this pendulum that swung either towards heart disease or kidney disease and he’d be stuck in this hospitalization cycle without increased quality of life. So I chose to put him down.
After 11 years of being a faithful companion and constant in my life through many seasons of life, I had to say goodbye. Fortunately my parents, brother, and his family all live close by now, and we were able to be present for his final moments and take the time to say goodbye. We buried him in my parents’ backyard by my childhood pet rabbit (digging holes is really hard work…), and we all shed so many tears. Even my dad, who is usually more stoic (and not an animal person), cried and showed a lot of worry for Tobi. Tobi was such a sweet and loving boy and it was really hard to let him go, but harder to see him in so much discomfort and pain. It was really hard to say the words to tell the vet my choice to humanely euthanize him, but I feel blessed knowing that it was the right decision. I was grateful for the certainty of the decision at the time, something that not all pet owners get when their animal is in a slower decline — ultimately the question of “Is there more we can do? Is it worth it? What would they want?” always floats around. With Tobi’s labs coming back down after the supportive therapy at home and leading to a cardiovascular emergency, it felt like we really had done everything possible. When Tobi was being discharged the second time, the vet made all sorts of suggestions for managing the kidney disease, all of which we did or had been doing already. But I’m glad I got the few days at home with him; I was able to cherish a lot of quality time with him, petting him, brushing him, snuggling him. He sat in my lap as I worked, pressed himself up against me and purred, content. It is such a simple and rare joy to experience and I cherished it all the more knowing that my time with him was limited. I didn’t know how limited it would be, but I felt like God was slowly preparing me for the end in those last five days.
What now
It’ll take some time to adjust to this new chapter, but I’m trying to give myself enough time to grieve and move on before deciding if/when I want to get another cat. I think for now I’m going to explore some things that might’ve been harder to do when I had a cat, like hobbies that take more time, or traveling, or being the cool aunt for my niece (and soon to be second!). It’s been a difficult and stormy last year or so, with the loss of family, the loss of my marriage, and now the loss of my longtime animal companion Tobi. The days following all those things showcased God’s faithfulness, as He drew me close to him through comfort from friends and family. I had so many people—friends, family, coworkers—show up in so many ways. Whether a hug, a sweet treat, distracting company, comforting words, or comforting silence, everyone knew just what to do or what to say when I needed it. I really think also that the Holy Spirit showed up in that way for them too, whether they knew it or not.
My mom and I spent the days after Tobi’s death cleaning and packing up his stuff so I wouldn’t have reminders of him every where I looked in my new apartment (“not throwing it out, just packing it up, you know, for your next cat!”). I packed up his leftover consumables (like his litter, food, and medicine) to donate to the shelter, but decided to take them to the vet, because if I went to the shelter I might come back out with everything plus a new cat. XD And I think I need time to grieve and explore and settle before diving back into cat ownership. Maybe I’ll foster or volunteer with rescues instead. Who knows. I will say though, I don’t immediately want to adopt every single cat I see! I worked at the vet hospital you see, I’ve built up a nominal amount of immunity to their tactics. There was only ever one other cat that I ever saw that I was like I HAVE TO HAVE HER (I didn’t adopt her, she got adopted by another staff member though). We’ll see how long it takes for me to get that again. My friend (who Tobi influenced into getting a cat!) is visiting in a couple weeks and she was already like “do you want to go to the shelter when we’re here” and maybe we’ll go … JUST TO LOOK!!! … to see what kinds of cats they have JUST TO SEE!!! I told my mom and she was like “when you guys go to the shelter you can swing by the house and pick up the cat stuff we’re packing away” hahahaha. Danger….
Tobi’s Time
I got Tobi right after graduating university after being influenced by my friend’s Siamese cat Meowmi (who also passed away a couple weeks ago after living a long life of 21 years(!!)—we legitimately thought he was going to outlive us all or that he was some sort of immortal spirit). At the time I was living with my friend Felicia who had a golden sheltie named Mia (who ALSO RECENTLY PASSED AWAY WAAAAH), so we wanted to find a cat that might be okay with a gentle older dog. We weren’t allowed to bring Mia into the shelter, but she was outside the windows of Tobi’s room and he sat by that window and pawed at her.
Tobi was an owner surrender who had been in the shelter for six days. The story was that his owner was moving to a place that did not allow pets, so they chose to surrender him (which I always felt like was a bad reason but I don’t know the full story). His shelter name was Dennis (LMAO), but he absolutely did not have Dennis vibes so of course I renamed him. The top name contenders were Chibbles, Sherbert, and Tobi. Tobi just fit so it stuck. He was an adult by the time I adopted him, and the vet estimated his age at around one year (but we’ll never know for sure).
Tobi was really shy and skittish at first; he spent a lot of time hiding and wouldn’t come out when I had visitors unless the visit lasted longer than 2 hours. It took several years of socialization and love and care before his personality really bloomed and he became the sweet and loving cat that we all know and love. He was super sweet but not very bright, but he was so polite and gentle it was the best cat a beginner owner like me could have asked for.
Vets always loved him. They’d always comment on how deep his orange fur was and how handsome he was with his yellow-green eyes. And I’d have to say I agree (totally not biased).
He liked getting pet and brushed a lot, with long firm strokes from the forehead all the way down through the tail. His favorite place was to be snuggled up against your leg, but it was really rare that he wanted to sit on you (except he loved sitting in my mom’s lap and I was always so jealous!). He did start sitting in my lap more in the last several years whenever it got cold and extra so in the last weeks when he wasn’t feeling well, which, for a person who is big on physical touch, was such a privilege.
Whenever he slept, he would assume the shrimping position 🍤, cover his eyes with his paw if it was too bright, and snore like an old man! Sometimes I’d be working or doing something and he’d be sleeping in the room somewhere, and I’d hear his little snores from across the room. Buddyyyyyy.
His favorite toy was actually a toy he stole from another cat when I was cat sitting. It was a banana with surprised face on it that was filled with catnip. He loved that thing so much! When I brought him to Maryland I forgot to pack it, so I bought him a substitute catnip pickle which he also loved dearly. He liked chasing feathers and worms at the end of fishing rod toys, and would always love chasing it until he was panting and out of breath, especially when he was younger. We buried his banana and feather toy with him so he would have them forever.
I loved waking up in the morning on a lazy weekend and just laying in bed with him. He’d often be laid out soaking in the sunbeams and then he’d look at me over his shoulder. He had a really expressive face and it was such a joy to see him cats’miring me. :) My favorite pictures were those where he’s just sitting there looking at me. That’s when I know he knew he was loved.
I’m amazed I got as many good pictures of him as I did, because he did not like getting his photo taken. It was like whenever he was acting cute it was for your eyes only in that moment. I caught a few but I’d say I’d miss capturing it 80% of the time (unless he was sleeping) because he’d get up and come over to rub his face on the corner of my phone. It wouldn’t stop me from trying, though. It was like he could see me looking at him with my camera, and he’d get really excited to say hi.
He was a master biscuit maker and had a V8 purring motor. Put him on any soft plush surface and he would get to work immediately. Pet him and he’d purr so loudly. I remember when I first got him he’d purr me to sleep every night making biscuits by my pillow. I still get sleepy and relaxed listening to his rumbles and feeling his good vibrations. He was almost always purring.
Tobi was also a very good ambassador for the feline species to others. I know that Tobi has influenced multiple friends of mine to get cats of their own, and I’ve had a friend even tell me that Tobi was the first cat she genuinely liked and that her positive interactions with Tobi made her like the cats that she met after she met him. He was a gentle soul. My niece (bless her heart) really wanted to be best friends with Tobi, but of course Tobi taught her the importance of respecting other people’s personal boundaries.
His favorite place to be was always with you. Not always actively interacting with you, but always in the same room. He always had to know where I was. Sometimes he’d be in the room with me, then leave the room, the start crying because he didn’t know where I was until I called to him to remind him I was in the room he left me in. Like I said, sweet, but not very bright. Whenever I went on vacation and left him with my parents, he would throw up a day or two after I didn’t come home. Poor boy. I always came back, though. I got in the habit of telling him when I was leaving and that I’d be back, even though he was a cat and didn’t know what that meant, hahaha. I like to think having that habit helped him know I didn’t just vanish into thin air. Whenever I came home from work, he’d run to the door to greet me. Usually he’d be upstairs, but I could hear his little paws thump-thump-thump-thump-thump and meows as he trotted down the stairs to say hi.
I do think that he had a name for me, he would always meow a specific way (“mrrr-mmROW!”) to get my attention or to greet me which was different from his “conversational” meows whenever I answered him and talked back with him. If I was sitting at my desk, he’d get up on his hind legs and tap me on the arm. If I was in bed, he’d get up on the bed and rub my face with his. We had our own little language and way of communicating.
The last few days have been really hard. The tears overflow from every squeeze of my heart, but I know it’s just a sign of how much love I had for him and how big of a hole he leaves now that he’s gone.
I miss him so much and I’ll miss him forever.
Thanks for reading.
—Jasmin