Goodnight Midnight

It’s amazing how one small animal can make such a huge impact on your life. It’s true…I’m in mourning. This past weekend we lost a precious fur child to complications from inflammatory bowel disease. Midnight was one of the sweetest babies I’ve ever had the privilege of being owned by. She loved everyone and everyone loved her. It was impossible not to. She is the third fur child in five years in our family to succumb to feline IBD. After Alex, I didn’t think I’d have to deal with it again so soon. I was hoping not at all. But it was not meant to be. 

After my sister lost her husband, she moved in with us and brought her two cats, Moufasa and Midnight. Moufasa was sickly and it was not long before I recognized the symptoms of the dreaded disease I’d come to hate so much. Luckily his case was easier to handle than Midnight’s, but he did not live as long. I changed his diet to strictly raw food (Stella & Chewy’s) and it put an end to his uncontrollable diarrhea. He did very well for a long time. Sadly after almost two years, he developed a mass in his stomach and eventually we had to let him go. But with raw food, B12 injections and plenty of love, he lived a lot longer than we thought he would. 

After he passed, Midnight did very well for a few months and then began developing symptoms of her own. I was so upset and I couldn’t believe it was happening yet again. Because of all I’d learned between Alex and Moufasa, I was able to give Midnight an extra four years with us. Medications, B12, fluid therapy and diet all played a role and again, I learned so much I didn’t know before. In the end I know that’s a good thing and my knowledge can now continue to help others, as I did when Alex passed. But when it comes down to it, seeing yet another creature I love suffer is just unacceptable.

This disease is robbing us of way too many years worth of love and happiness. Yes, kitties with IBD can lead a very good quality of life but I defy you to find one pet parent that is accepting of what their babies have to go through, even in its mildest form. For me I’m left yet again to sift through the happy memories I have and try hard to remove the ones of how sick Midnight was at the end. Unfortunately it’s impossible to do completely and it hurts me terribly that she had to go through this at all. We need to push universities to further their research and make advancements into better treatments and hopefully a cure. The loss I experienced recently is one that’s happening every single day somewhere in this world and it’s leaving pet parents everywhere alone and traumatized. It has to end.

In the meantime, I’ll force the bad memories to the back of my mind and concentrate on how completely loving and affectionate she was; how she adored us and showed us every single day how big her heart was for such a little girl. She loved belly rubs, couldn’t get enough kisses and was the best patient for a sick kitty that ever lived. In all the years I had to give her pills, injections, fluids and occasionally syringe feed her, she never once fought me or made a fuss. She’d never even flinch. Until the very end where she was hurting so badly she couldn’t stand to be touched anymore and actually hid behind the bed for the first time.

Well Midnight, my sweetheart, there is no more medicine! No more poking with needles and no more losing weight and feeling lousy. You are free from all of that now and as much as it hurts us and we miss you, I can only hope you are running around and playing, having shed your old, broken body. I hope we meet again someday my sweet girl and until then I’ll see you in my dreams.