Izumo the Pirate Rat's Last Adventure
Aug. 26th, 2009 07:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nezukoMy rather elderly (over three, but he was a rescue so I don't know his exact age) boy Izumo is one of the sweetest, most wonderful of the many rats who have graced my life. I know you aren't supposed to have favorites, but I can't help myself, he's one of the Ones. He's a dumbo rex black capped, and a sweetheart like no other.
A year ago in June he developed a bulging left eye, which his vet at Adobe Animal Hospital diagnosed as a retrobulbar abscess. Antibiotics failed to help, and he had surgery to remove the eye. At the time we were worried he wouldn't survive the surgery, but he came through it like a champ.
Being one-eyed has hindered him not at all. In fact, once he got used to the vision loss, he went right back to climbing bookcases and jumping merrily off the sofa to go adventuring.
Over the last year the eye socket continued to develop abscesses. He was on and off antibiotics most of the year, but he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He was otherwise healthy, active, kept his weight up, etc. It was just a minor irritation that he only complained about when I had to flush the wound with antiseptic solution.
In May of this year I discovered a testicular lump, so he was neutered, since he was otherwise happy and active, and it seemed the tumor hadn't spread. At the time of that surgery, Dr. N reopened the eye socket to see if perhaps the reason it was constantly re-abscessing was due to a remnant of tear duct from the prior surgery.
It seemed, though, that what was really going on was cancer. He did well for a couple weeks after the surgery, then what appeared to be a new abscess formed, but it was bulgier and bloodier than any previous abscess. When Dr N saw him, he confirmed that it was not an infection, but a tumor. In June Dr. N said it was a matter of days, but I brought Izumo home and did my best to keep him comfortable.
He thrived. The tumor continued to grow, protruding grotesquely from his eye-socket, but he didn't seem to mind in the least. Dr. N said he was afraid to try a surgery on it, as it had a rich blood supply and he was not confident he could control the bleeding. Given that Izumo was already elderly, we decided to spare him the surgery.
In July he developed a new tumor under the skin on his right side, near his foreleg. It has grown and wrapped around his chest, impairing his mobility, but he doesn't act like it is painful at all. He's just lumpy and has a hard time getting around.
But now...
He's not acting like he's in pain, but he is weak and sleepy. He's not eating, but he is drinking. I've put Pedialyte in his water bottle to give him a few calories and encourage him to drink, and he seems enthusiastic about it.
He still seems happy: he licks my hand, and bruxes when I pet him. He's mostly resting in his hammock, curled up cozily with his cage mate, the Princess Anzu-hime. But I can tell the end is near. He has the acetone odor of ketoacidosis from not eating, and he's somewhat listless.
I am ready for this. I've known it was coming for a long time, and I've had many more months with him than I ever thought possible. As long as he isn't suffering, I'd rather keep him here, warm, in the home he knows, with the souls who love him, and let him pass quietly when he is ready to go. I wish there were a way to make this vigil easier for him.
And for me.
A year ago in June he developed a bulging left eye, which his vet at Adobe Animal Hospital diagnosed as a retrobulbar abscess. Antibiotics failed to help, and he had surgery to remove the eye. At the time we were worried he wouldn't survive the surgery, but he came through it like a champ.
Being one-eyed has hindered him not at all. In fact, once he got used to the vision loss, he went right back to climbing bookcases and jumping merrily off the sofa to go adventuring.
Over the last year the eye socket continued to develop abscesses. He was on and off antibiotics most of the year, but he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He was otherwise healthy, active, kept his weight up, etc. It was just a minor irritation that he only complained about when I had to flush the wound with antiseptic solution.
In May of this year I discovered a testicular lump, so he was neutered, since he was otherwise happy and active, and it seemed the tumor hadn't spread. At the time of that surgery, Dr. N reopened the eye socket to see if perhaps the reason it was constantly re-abscessing was due to a remnant of tear duct from the prior surgery.
It seemed, though, that what was really going on was cancer. He did well for a couple weeks after the surgery, then what appeared to be a new abscess formed, but it was bulgier and bloodier than any previous abscess. When Dr N saw him, he confirmed that it was not an infection, but a tumor. In June Dr. N said it was a matter of days, but I brought Izumo home and did my best to keep him comfortable.
He thrived. The tumor continued to grow, protruding grotesquely from his eye-socket, but he didn't seem to mind in the least. Dr. N said he was afraid to try a surgery on it, as it had a rich blood supply and he was not confident he could control the bleeding. Given that Izumo was already elderly, we decided to spare him the surgery.
In July he developed a new tumor under the skin on his right side, near his foreleg. It has grown and wrapped around his chest, impairing his mobility, but he doesn't act like it is painful at all. He's just lumpy and has a hard time getting around.
But now...
He's not acting like he's in pain, but he is weak and sleepy. He's not eating, but he is drinking. I've put Pedialyte in his water bottle to give him a few calories and encourage him to drink, and he seems enthusiastic about it.
He still seems happy: he licks my hand, and bruxes when I pet him. He's mostly resting in his hammock, curled up cozily with his cage mate, the Princess Anzu-hime. But I can tell the end is near. He has the acetone odor of ketoacidosis from not eating, and he's somewhat listless.
I am ready for this. I've known it was coming for a long time, and I've had many more months with him than I ever thought possible. As long as he isn't suffering, I'd rather keep him here, warm, in the home he knows, with the souls who love him, and let him pass quietly when he is ready to go. I wish there were a way to make this vigil easier for him.
And for me.
