On Saturday Gandalf went to meet his maker. We had been out for lunch at Rossini in Wendover with Helen and the parents. We got back to the house at about 17:00. Gandalf was at the door shouting about food as he usually does. My parent left and Helen gave him his usual food, then about 30 minutes later he was sick, etc and he was sitting as though he was not comfortable.
Not long after he was sick again and he did not seem too sure on his back legs, then it became obvious he was not right. He could hardly move his back legs and when he did the paws were folding over (knuckling). We got him on the settee and he curled up but was not comfortable he kept on trying to get up and rearrange himself. We decided we should call the vets. Helen spoke to a receptionist who took the details and would get a vet to call back quickly. I took the call and explained to the vet what was going on. It was clear that the vet recognosed the symptons and said we should bring him in for a look immediately. Alarm bells rang!
We got to the vets and the went in to the consultation room, the vet was a young lady. The vet asked lots of questions and gave Gandalf a thorough examination. She explained what she she had discovered in great detail and it was clear that she was trying to get across the message that things were not good. Basically Gandalf had a blood clot that had detached itself from the heart which had descended the arteries towards the hind quarters but had blocked the artery to the legs where the artery splits. This explained the coldness of the paws the lack of pulse and the problem Gandalf was having moving his legs. Although he appeared uncomfortable it is known that this condition is very painful for the cat.
The vet explained that he could be treated but in her experience the outcome was hardly ever good and that the age of Gandalf combined with the other underlying issues we knew about (heart murmur, thyroid condition and high white blood cell count) the prognosis was not good. We made the hard decision to have Gandalf put to rest. It was not an easy decision, but both Helen and I were there to make the decision and we are sure it was the right one. Gandalf was 18 years old we did not want his last days to be miserable.
The vet gave us a moment then came back with a cushion and explained what would happen. Gandalf got an injection into the stomach and very quickly he looked very comfortable, compared to a few minutes earlier. After a short time he let out a couple of short breaths and the vet checked for a heart beat. He had slipped away very peacefully.
Both Helen and I were sad that it had to happen but glad that it happened when we were able to get him to the vet quickly and make the difficult decision together.