Quito the Terrible
We don't know exactly where Quito started life. The shelter records stated that she was found scrounging garbage in a dumpster to provide for her four kittens. Given her pristine white cleanliness, I had a hard time imagining it. Quito is a Princess to the core.
She came into MY life through my mom. Mom was in assisted living, and shared her apartment with another elderly lady who also loved cats. In my infinite wisdom, I thought it would be nice if I took both of them with me to the local shelter to choose their kitty. Everything about the trip was wonderful - except they fell in love with different cats.
Fine. Sue had no family in the area, so I committed to being responsible for kitty litter, maintenance and vet bills for both kitties and off we went. All was well for several weeks. . . and then I noticed that Quito (then named 'Kitty-kitty') was ALWAYS on my mom's bed. I should state that my mom had Alzheimer's, so she was what is known as a 'poor historian' in the medical field. Sue filled me in. Kitty-kitty loved the bed so much that she never left it. Hmmm.
I petted Kitty-kitty. I noticed that she seemed a little lethargic. I picked her up, and almost fainted. She had a lush, long coat that disguised the fact that there was nothing but skin and bones beneath it. She wasn't like that when we got her, and I wondered how I possibly could have missed the deterioration. But I had. Sue's cat, Precious, was the problem. Precious refused to let Kitty-kitty near the food. And now, even protected, Kitty-kitty wouldn't eat.
Apparently, when cats go a certain amount of time without eating, they can get 'hepatic lipidosis' - a liver disease of fatty deposits that causes a severe distaste for food and eventual starvation and death. The vet suggested euthanasia - seven pounds to four in three weeks, with altered liver enzymes and weakness was a bad prognosis.
I asked about options, feeling horrible for my neglect.
I was told that we could try to force feed her. The cure was getting enough calories in to reverse the process. Well, all I can say is that one determined 4 pound cat, too weak to walk, can still spew food in a four foot wide arch that covers her benefactors (torturers?) in a slimy, fishy froth. After 3 tries, my son refused to help any more. I called the vet again - other options?
Surgery. VERY expensive surgery, to implant a stomach tube through which Kitty-kitty might receive nourishment while bypassing the need to eat. I looked at her. She meowed silently, too weak to make noise.
I thought about my planned hiking trip to Quito, Ecuador-a graduation present to myself for finally finishing my doctorate. I had been looking forward to it for the entire last year of school, saving whatever meager excess money I could scrounge in a separate fund. I looked at the cat again. I couldn't do both. So. . . Kitty-kitty got a stomach tube and a new name. And - I have to say that I've gotten my money's worth.
Quito recovered nicely, and has been my cat ever since. She earned her title 'the Terrible' by her treatment of every other cat in the household. I suppose, once recovered, she was never going to take chances again - NOONE, not even my largest male Maine coon chases her from the food dish. Like Scarlett, Quito will never be hungry again!
My mom passed away in 2007, and Quito is old and arthritic, but still going strong. I know that she can't live forever, but somehow, when she curls up on the bed next to me (after a warning growl to nearby felines) a part of me is convinced that she will.