Today’s guest post comes from guest author Robin Bisha, creator of Chesire Loves Karma. This post is part of a series called On Her Way–each post features a woman telling her own story in her own words. If you have a story of transformation to tell and would like to be featured here, please get in touch via the Contact link above.
Last year at this time Brie was coughing and breathing twice as fast as a cat should, with his mouth open. Cat lovers will recognize this as a major health crisis.
My friend the pet first aid instructor offered to go with me to the emergency vet 14 miles away. We both thought Brie had died on the way to the clinic and were relieved he was still alive when we arrived. A vet tech took him from his carrier to an oxygen kennel.
Brie’s chest x-ray revealed a heart and lungs that looked like those of an elderly cat, according to the veterinarian on duty. Brie was 2.
The vet wasn’t encouraging, but how could I go home to Bleu, Cheddar, and Colby and tell them their brother wasn’t worth saving? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing one of the Cheeses, a litter of four kittens that a nationwide community of cat lovers saved from a North Carolina parking lot two years earlier. My friend rescued the kittens but couldn’t find a place for them on the east coast. Volunteer drivers handed them off as they traversed seven states to meet me in Beaumont, Texas. They are my only “foster failure.” I couldn’t separate them as kittens. I would do all I could to save Brie.
Early the next morning, I transported Brie from the emergency clinic to a specialty animal hospital. Again, the vet was not encouraging. If I got stuck in a traffic jam, Brie might struggle for breath without oxygen and die en route. I picked him up at 4:30 a.m. to avoid traffic, but a jack-knifed eighteen-wheeler closed the freeway and delayed us anyway.
Brie made it to his new oxygen kennel. At 6:30 a.m. the staff suggested I go home because the specialists wouldn’t look at him for hours.
He spent two days in oxygen while the specialists evaluated him. They found a heart condition and asthma. I’ve been giving cats pills successfully for years, so treating his heart would be easy. Prevention of Brie’s asthma attacks, however, requires treatment by inhaler puffs every 12 hours.
Inhaler puffs.
Every 12 hours.
I was a traveler. Thirty-seven states and the District of Columbia. Armenia, Austria, Cambodia, Canada (several times), Czech Republic (twice) Egypt, England (twice), France (three times), Finland (several times), Greece, India, Latvia, Mexico, the Netherlands, Russia (eight times), Scotland, Singapore, and Viet Nam. In the ‘80s, my cat stayed with my mom for nine months while I was in Russia.
I also maintained a demanding schedule at my university teaching job, sometimes arriving on campus at 9:30 a.m. and leaving at 10 p.m.
Every 12 hours.
Yet I knew from the moment I heard the treatment options that I was in the right place. I have not been away from home more than 14 hours at a time for a year, and I have the same inner knowledge that I am exactly where I belong.
Brie is doing well. He’s a happy cat. He and I now share a special, joyful bond. I wasn’t sure how we would do, however, as we left the specialty hospital with pills, an inhaler, a mask, and various other paraphernalia.
Luckily for Brie, I study animal training. (Courses for certification in the Tellington method took me to Colorado, North Carolina, and Quebec . . . ) Although my older cats trained a little, the Cheeses are the first to start training from kittenhood. While they were still technically foster kittens, we held “Kitten School” every morning. Everyone targets and shakes paws. Bleu can ride a skateboard. Brie was the least interested kitten and rarely attended.
Luckily for me, Brie loves food. I introduced him to his inhaler and a roasted chicken at the same time. While Brie doesn’t like his inhaler as much as he likes chicken, he accepts it with little resistance. Every 12 hours.
Occasionally, I feel stuck, but the feeling goes away when Brie greets me at the door, when I hear his squeaky meow, feel him body slam my shins, or see him cavorting with his shiny, gold ball. Everything is right when we get into position, and I put the little mask over his nose and squeeze the inhaler. He breathes. I count to 10 (or 14, in case I’m counting too fast).
Brie is not a brave cat. One of my students helped me train him to sort-of enjoy visitors to our house. On Christmas Eve he cottoned to our guest without expectation of food reward. A first. He also goes on social visits to our veterinary clinic. Training to accept strangers and other environments makes Cheese Puff backup possible. We have yet to work on accepting puffs from someone other than me. Truth be told, I am no more ready to entrust his care to another human than he is. (I stopped counting Brie’s respiration rate several times every day only in October.)
Brie gives me reason to stay home. My commitment to him has also deepened my commitment to myself. Cheese Puffs bracket my days. We start between 6 and 7 a.m. I’m home by 6 or for a dinner break. I don’t go to meetings that interfere with puffs. Distant relatives and friends haven’t seen me unless they have come to Texas.
At the anniversary of Brie’s health crisis, I started training to be a volunteer zoo docent. At the zoo, I can easily travel from Amazonia to Africa and home again within 12 hours. When I get home, Brie’s is always the first face I see in the window.
People ask me, sometimes with evident horror, if I will have to give Brie puffs every day for 15 years. If the Cheese Puffs give him a happy kitty life for a normal kitty lifespan, I will give them.
I did ask his vet last week if there’s any reason he couldn’t travel. We’ll start with a trip to Sonic for grilled chicken and see where we end up.
Robin Bisha teaches at Texas Lutheran University, where she also directs the university’s honors program. Her family has always included cats as well as a few dogs, guinea pigs, birds, mice, turtles, and fish. One of her cats lets her write about human and animal relationships at his website, CheshireLovesKarma.com
9 Comments
Such a beautiful story. I am glad Robin kept all the kittens and has done so much to help Brie. She is a special woman.
What Tessie Pino said above is so very true. you are amazing – simply amazng! We are in awe of what you do.
I think you’re one of the best unsung animal heroes Robin! What dedication and love! I do recall the Cheeses cross state transport. Hugs Tessie (AngelSmokey @Smokey8)
Robin so proud to call you a friend, your comment to animals helps our community be a much better place!
Thank you, Jamie! That means a lot!
What a precious story of your love for this kitty. My husband had a cat. I begrudgingly took her in when he moved in with me when we married. I’m not a fan of cats, but I’m a fan of animals and LIFE. There were several times that I helped nurse her back to health against my will. 😉 We lost her about 2 years ago. She was 15.
I am sorry for your family’s loss. Thanks for caring even when you didn’t want to. Life is precious.
I think I just developed another woman crush. you had me at “Every 12 hours” and sealed it at “We’ll start with a trip to Sonic for grilled chicken and see where we end up.”
I had a diabetic cat I needed to inject every 12 hours.. I received some flack from family over it occasionally, but having a special needs cat.. well a bond forms that doesn’t form easily with ‘regular’ cats.
I know hearing “thank you” sounds so cheesy (pun intended) but thank you for sharing this. As a foster home, being reminded that there are good pet parents out there is important.
Thank you for fostering! And for caring for special kitties.