“Did you see Oreo’s belly? When she came up the stairs her belly looked big. Have a look,” my husband implored.

(That request was shared a little more than two weeks ago, on a Tuesday. And today, astonishingly, that one-year-old, black-and-white, short haired angel of a cat named Oreo is gone from this world. It happened that fast!)

Thinking the cat food I had switched her to the day before might have created a digestive problem, I immediately changed Oreo back to kitten food when I saw her potbelly.

She was spayed, so I knew she couldn’t be pregnant. But could a spayed cat exhibit a false pregnancy…and to that extent? If so, I learned it would fade within a few weeks. So we watched her carefully for a few days. Still, her nipples weren’t pink and swollen so I thought it was highly unlikely to be a false pregnancy.

But the swollen belly persisted. In fact, it appeared to be getting bigger! She was pretty much eating and drinking as usual (although that was soon to change), and was active as always and didn’t display any signs of pain. So what else could be going on?

In November we had adopted Oreo from the SPCA and she had stayed indoors ever since…so I knew she hadn’t hunted rodents since we had her. Nor had she dug in any soil. Just the same, I checked her stools but found no evidence of worms and their eggs.

And she wasn’t vomiting…but her stools soon turned to bouts of diarrhea.

This was quite the puzzle.

While I used the Internet to gather a list of potential causes to Oreo’s belly expansion and read up on symptoms and treatments, my hubby contacted two vets.

And to our disbelief and amazement we had a presumptive diagnosis, without a diagnostic test (because there is no such simple thing—a biopsy of affected tissue is necessary, and that can only occur at autopsy), Oreo probably had “wet” FIP (feline infectious peritonitis)—a progressive and fatal viral disease. I’d never heard of it! Why did she have it…and with symptoms occurring so fast? (Apparently stress was a big factor—had Oreo been so overwhelmed with our recent house visitors that it triggered her immune system to over respond to the dormant virus already in her body?)

Oreo’s body cavity was rapidly filling with fluid and we were told there was absolutely NOTHING that could be done to save her.

It was shocking and devastating news.

All we could do was give good supportive nursing care and awesome nutrition to make her as comfortable as possible and extend her life…but sadly, for only a short amount of time. It was to be a distasteful waiting game.

In yesterdays Blog post I described Oreo’s demeanor leading up to her final hours. And at the Blog’s close I said we were facing the difficult decision of whether or not to end her life, or let her die at home.

Well, we took her to the SPCA—her dilated pupils indicated she was in pain. At 4:30pm Oreo was given a lethal injection to end her suffering. 

Did we make the decision quickly enough? Did we let her suffer too long? Should we have let her keep going? Did we give in too quickly? Were we unwilling to pay large vet bills?

So many sources say, “Euthanasia is the most loving gift for a cat that is suffering, has lost her quality of life and has no chance of improvement.”

Somehow that doesn’t make it any easier to bear the burden of making that final decision. So here I sit in disbelief, shock and sadness at how rapidly it all unfolded.

I miss you so much Oreo. We all do. (Pumpkin is looking for you. But perhaps you can play with Tiger?)

Love always…

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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