WE’RE ALL DUNROAMIN’
OMEN
I guess I should start at the beginning and tell you about one of the most loving and loved patients that we have seen in a while. In dire straits, this black cat came to the back porch of a home in Perth-Andover and his rescuers, realizing he was in trouble, brought him to DunRoamin’. His body condition was poor and his abdomen was distended; he had fleas and was allergic to them, causing a painful, itchy rash; his black coat had a reddish tint, suggesting chronic poor nutrition; and his left eye socket was empty and infected. Still he was happy to greet his new friends, welcomed the availability of good food and seemed to improve over the next weeks. He was cared for by DunRoamin’ volunteers and quickly became a favourite – partly due to his endearing habit of putting both front legs around the neck of anyone who picked him up and rubbing his face on their chin.
Even though he was subjected to uncomfortable treatments such as flushing the debris from the empty eye area and receiving medications that “taste awful and it works,” this little guy, now known as Omen, rejected the use of violence to defend himself. He might push a hand away, but never used teeth or claws. He became the unlikely darlin’ of DunRoamin’.
So it was with great anxiety that his caretakers reported to the vet clinic that Omen had stopped eating and was not responding to social interactions. He was moved to the hospital where his veterinarian determined that his blood was extremely low (almost too low to support life) and his abdomen was very distended. With several days of treatment, Omen continued to deteriorate despite offerings of hugs, special foods and a commitment by the cat caretaker to adopt him if he would only live.
A few days before Christmas, Dr Monteith and I stood in front of Omen’s kennel to discuss his lack of response to treatment and to brainstorm regarding other treatment options. We came up with none. We did decide to give him a couple more days to see if he could respond to our medications and start eating on his own. We concluded our consultation by agreeing that if his blood did not improve soon or if he still refused to eat, we would not condone his suffering and agreed to euthanize him.
Galvanized, volunteers begged him to get better, clinic staff home-cooked chicken and hamburger. On one visit to check on Omen’s condition, I noted an entire smorgasbord of food available to him in his kennel – chicken, hamburger, salmon, cat milk, recovery cat food, and cheese. Not wanting to disappoint anyone, I guess, Omen ate! Then, when picked up for a congratulatory hug, Omen hugged back. His blood work that morning was improved! The clinic was in celebration status, as was DunRoamin’.
You know, that little fighter, not the most attractive of cats even without the empty eye socket, had an entire cheering section rooting for him – all because of his lovely personality and his strength in fighting to survive. He may be a black cat, but he’s certainly a good Omen!
Maybe we will discuss our plans to euthanize in front of other critically ill cats, giving them 48 hours to improve. Was that the impetus? Time will tell. We all agree. We really don’t care how or why he did it – just that he’s still here with us. Still, if it works, we’ll do it again.
