Behind the Wall

Julius passed to the Summerlands this afternoon.

He was not in good shape. His veins had collapsed, he was dehydrated from refusing to drink anything the past couple of days, didn't want to move to go anywhere, refused food...
The vet told us that if we had waited until tonight, his kidneys would have shut down, and he would have started seizing.

We did the right thing, bringing him in while he still had his dignity and the knowledge that he was (and still is) loved.


You have earned your rest, mighty hunter.
Merry met, merry part, and merry meet once again.

So for the past few weeks, Julius has had a bit of a limp going on with his back left leg. At first diagnosis from the vet, it was believed to be a strained/torn muscle. It didn't hamper him one bit, he was still the sweet, lovable cat he's always been.

However, today turned out to make things quite different indeed.

His limping had become worse over the past month. He was slated to go in today anyway for a second check on his thyroid levels, as they had been off, evident by his loss of at least five pounds.
So the vet examined the left rear quarter today -- and found out that the cause of the limp was not a torn muscle, but a soft tissue tumor that, in the past month, had grown so quickly and, until now, pretty much undetected, that it's already eating into the bones of his hip.
In other words, not much we can really do about it apart from some pretty radical treatment that would break the bank.
Bugger.

Julius is twelve years old, and is still the utter sweetheart.
He's been given roughly a month to live before his condition worsens.
The thing of it is, this isn't something that will outright kill him, but will make his quality of life less than comfortable, as he will very likely fracture the bones in and around his hip, causing him extreme pain, and it's not something that can really be mended due to the tumor. As it is, his lifestyle has to change now, as he will become more dependent upon others for him to get up onto our bed. When we're in Virginia this Christmas (he's cleared to go, travel will not cause him any further problems), we'll have to use a toddler gate at the stairs in Colleen's parents' house, as we don't want him tackling the stairs in his condition.
However, there is the grim possibility that a turn of events away from home may cause us to lay him to his rest, to allow his passage to the Summerlands when we're away. We're prepared for it in any case.

Now I've known Julius since February 2000, and he's been nothing but the sweetest of cats to me. He's been my nap buddy, my companion, the Great Fuzzy Hunter... None of that has, for now at least, changed any.

For those who are interested, I'll keep posting thoughts and updates on his situation as warranted.
For those who have gone through situations like this before, you'll understand.
Words of hope, words of sympathy, words of prayers to whatever $deity you prefer (in our case, the Bright Lady and Bast have been called upon) are appreciated and welcome.

But for now, he's just resting comfortably on his pillow that rests above my head on the bed... his pillow...
And he knows he's loved.

So there I was, on Sunday, kicking back on the couch with Marcus in my arms, listening to him calmly snoozing away.
I hear something take a tumble in the dining area. I figured it was Julius trying to get around to his dish and just knocked something over. No big deal.
A few seconds later, I see Julius calmly walking into the living area, stepping onto the big Middle Eastern blanket we use to demark Marcus' play area. I see him sit down and sort of hunch over, then start batting at something.
My mind suddenly goes into overdrive. WtF???
I slip Marcus down onto the couch (he stayed asleep, thank the Gods), and I see what Julius had brought -- a tiny mouse (the Rat Bastard!). He had actually carried it in his mouth!
The little thing scampered through the toys scattered on the blanket to get away. I tried to catch it in a plastic mold, but it was too quick. It must've escaped under the couch back to whence it came.

Since then, Julius has been called the Great Hunter. Lots of scritches to him.
Now we know he has the instinct within him.
Hopefully the little bugger is too scared now since he got caught, and is telling any of the others that the big cat isn't as stupid as they thought.