When I rescued him he was in terrible shape.
Emaciated, beat up, 4 breaks in the end of his tail. Worms and every bacteria you could think of; I wasn't sure he would recover.
Slowly he got better and began to thrive. His little body filled out and he came out of his shyness to shine. He played harder than anyone. The other cats would just sit and watch because he was all over the toy or red dot.
He was gentle and sweet. Puff and Ambrose were his best friends. He slept squished up against me every night.
He was confirmed for FIP on Monday. Ivan only had 3 shots but he was perfect for them. He had no symptoms of neuro but then it hit fast. On Wednesday he began have seizures. I got him on phenobarbital and he still had them. I rushed him back to the vet (2nd time that day) and they put him on IV meds. Even on the strongest anti-seizures they didn't stop. They got longer and came faster. He had already had 10 seizures. He started fading. He wasn't going to make it through the night so, with my heart imploding, I let him go. It was quick. I held him and heard the last beat of his beautiful heart.
FIP has taken 3 cats in my life. My grandfather's cat, Freddy, in the 80s. My precious Sid in 2017, the same year the life saving treatment came out. Now, my little Ivan. My fallen warriors.
The meds work. I have proof of that. But there's no way to predict anything and some just don't have time for those meds to kick in and fight off the virus. Ivan had the will to live but time wasn't on his side.
I go through the motions and try to heal but my grief is forever. FIP sucks. I live for the day there is a vaccine to prevent it. Ivan would have turned 2 on April 30th.
May we meet again, my gentle, precious boy.
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Info:Â info@tuxieslegacy.org
Info:Â info@tuxieslegacy.org
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