Another Friday Morning
Paul and Mercy were up early as usual on Friday, March 6. Paul enjoyed his first cup of coffee with his little buddy by his side. Mercy ate all of his breakfast and then asked for his second breakfast on schedule. The two watching the morning news. Enjoying hanging out together in the quiet of the morning.
After a while, Mercy headed off to catnap in his bed in the office as per his routine. Paul checked on him. I could hear the two of them having a conversation. Paul checked on him again about fifteen minutes later. Mercy looked up and gave him slow blinks of love. I heard Paul say, “I love you too, buddy.”
A few minutes later I began clearing the pathway for the roomba to run, Paul headed back into the office. Then I heard, Paul, say “Oh no! Jo, Mercy is gone.” My heart pounding I hurried into the office and found Paul down on the floor beside his little boy. Sweet little Mercy was curled up with his paws crossed. No sign of struggle, no sign of pain. It seemed he went to sleep and his heart was too tired to go on.
March Left Us With No Mercy
It has taken me an entire month to write these words. The past few weeks have been challenging for all of us with the pandemic worries and disruptions. You might remember that Mercy had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. For a few years his condition remained steady, no sign of a worsening condition. But, last December, between Christmas and New Year’s Day, Mercy began struggling to breathe. We rushed him to the veterinary clinic where he spent the night in an oxygen chamber while we waited for test results.
His little heart was struggling to keep up and he was building up fluid. The test results showed that Mercy had a blood clot in his aorta. Paul and I thought we were going to lose him then but our wonderful veterinary team worked up a plan of care with some new meds they thought might work.
The blood clot was like a time bomb. We didn’t know if or when it might dislodge. If this happened we would need to rush him to the emergency clinic. So Paul and I didn’t leave the house together from the day we found out about Mercy’s blood clot.
Mercy wasn’t the most cooperative of cats when it came time for his medicine. Paul and I were so grateful that my brother in law Bill came to our rescue and trained us how to use a VetOne Pet Piller to administer his meds. Bill brought us a special stethoscope to listen to Mercy’s lungs. It tooks some time but we finally got the routine down. We warmed a beach towel in the dryer and then wrapped Mercy like a little burrito. I loved to kiss him on the bridge of his black velvet nose. He tolerated this as best he could.
He liked the warm towel and it seemed to relax him enough for us to be able to get him to take the pills. We put a small bit of chicken in the pet piller and then gave him water with another syringe to help make sure the pills went down smoothly.
After a couple weeks, Mercy began to act more like himself. He even began to play with Annie and Eddie and even running through the house.
The day before we lost him, Mercy stayed very close, even closer than usual to Paul. The two of them took an unusually long nap, snuggled together. I checked on them several times. Mercy loved Paul so much and Paul loved him right back.
Mercy was a sweet cat from the day Paul rescued him from the alley as a tiny kitten. He lived with Paul’s mom until they both came to live with us. It was three years to the day that we lost Paul’s mom and we like to think she called him home to her.