After Louis

People asked me a while ago how Milly and Cooper had reacted to Louis's absence. I wasn't really up to writing about it then, but now it's been more than a month, and I am able to (most of the time) talk about Louis without crying, here's the rundown.

The first night Louis was absent, Cooper didn't seem to notice—just put himself to bed in the Spare Oom. But Milly kept looking for him. It was quite evident to me; she and Louis usually hung out in the living room with me, and she always kept a watchful eye on Lou, because he used to chase her quite a bit. He never got over been jealous of her, and sometimes he could still be quite aggressive, although he stopped short of actually hurting her. So that first night, she was very actively looking for him, expecting him to come through from the kitchen (the boys eat—ate—in the back room, Milly usually eats on a little red table in the living room). 

As the days went on, and no Louis, Milly basically began stretching her legs and taking over the house at night, once she and Cooper had eaten and he'd put himself to bed. She started roaming the whole house (except the second bedroom, where Cooper sleeps, apart from sometimes sneaking in to spy on him, and the study, which I don't think she ever goes in unless I am working in there). And I have to say, she's a much more confident, and dare I say, a happier girl now that she's not constantly on high alert about being beaten up.

She’s better with me, too; more playful, more affectionate (although Chinky Whacker still appears regularly and without warning), and indeed, tonight when I came home, she behaved exactly like she missed me and had been waiting for me. She was in the kitchen, behind the door that stops her going outside, now, when I’m not home (Cooper can still get into the back room to eat and for safety if he ever needs to), tore into the living room and flung herself down for a tummy rub. This is a first. It’s nice. I’m sorry why it’s happened, but I am glad it has.

Cooper hasn't shown any signs of fretting for Louis, but I think he missed him quite a bit at first. Mostly during the day, when he first went out in the morning, he didn't seem to know what to do with himself. He and Louis used to do the rounds of the garden, spraying over where the night visitors had been. They'd often have a little chase around, a bit of a brotherly rumble, as if they were warming up for the day, before eventually Louis would head off on his adventures and Cooper would go and find somewhere cosy to snooze. (He sleeps A Lot. Sometimes I come home and he's so fast asleep in a nest in the garden he doesn't hear me calling him to come inside.) I used to love watching them take back the garden in the morning—somewhere I have a manuscript draft of a story about The Daytime Cats and the Nighttime Cats, which I might revisit soon.

One day, when I left for work, I could see Louis sitting on the back fence of the house two doors up. (I park in the carport in the back yard of my house and drive out through the back gates into a laneway at the back. It was across that laneway, through the yard of my neighbour Simon's house and onto Macquarie St that Louis met his fate.) Lou was staring down into the yard from his perch on the fence. I called out to him—Lou! What are you doing? and walked up the laneway, expecting any minute he'd take off, not wanting me to interrupt Secret Louis Business. But he didn't, and when I got there, Cooper was on the ground in the overgrown back yard of the house. I think Cooper was hunting mice, and Louis was helping out. There, Coop! There's one! I have seen them hunting together, mice and pigeons, and this would have been one of the last times. It’s a lovely memory (sorry, mice).

Because then Louis wasn't here anymore.

For a while, Cooper would go out in the morning as usual, and then he’d just kind of hang around the back area, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. The morning routine, or ritual, was changed, and without his brother, he didn’t seem to be quite sure how to start the day. Poor Cooper; he’s doesn’t always rub along easily with life, and his start in life wan’t easy, and I wonder what he makes of yet another mystery, another loss…

I try and bring Cooper into bed with me most nights. He won’t come in by himself, but if I bring him in, he usually stays. Milly freaked out at first, but apart from the odd stink eye and skirmish, the latter accidental, mostly, I think, they mostly keep their distance, and we have a mostly peaceful household.

I talk to them about Louis all the time.

As for me, whenever I am at home, it feels like there’s a big empty space where he is not. I still look for him every time I park in the lane way, seeing him come running from Simon’s house, across the lane and home. I see him trotting across the back yard, bells on his collar a-swinging, his strong little chest out, happy to see me, happy to be home after his day’s adventures.

And I always told him—be careful. I love you. Be safe. Look for cars. I want you to be here with me for a long, long time. And I always knew he would go his own way, but I never believed I would lose him. I’m still not sure I believe I have, although there he is in his little box on the mantlepiece. Darling boy.

I miss him cuddled against me in bed. I miss the gaze of blissful adoration he gave me whenever he was snuggled on my lap. I miss his velvet patches and his strong cheekbones and his spotty chin and his pitch black paws. I miss his smart, funny, cocky, happy, confident way of striding across through the world. His was a big life, and a too short one. I will always miss him.

And that will have to do. 

Final thank you post about Louis (from Facebook)

Just popping up to say thank you to everyone for your incredibly kind words about Louis. It's been a hard, sad day, with many more like it ahead. Louis brought me such great happiness, and I'm finding it difficult to believe that he is gone.

However, I do want to let you know that, as per my posts yesterday, I was made very clear in my mind by the vets that there was no other option for my beautiful boy. He had indeed sustained irrepairable nerve damage, affecting his bowel and bladder, and the damage to his pelvis was such that even surgery was unlikely to have fixed it and may have led to further nerve damage. His luck—and he tested that luck, it must be said, many, many times—simply ran out.

I am grateful to the people who helped him, and grateful that I had the chance to say goodbye. He did not suffer any pain after the initial accident, thanks to the excellent care he received, and he was not yet suffering from the effects of the toxicity his injuries would have inevitably caused.

I cannot thank enough everyone who has been so unreservedly kind and loving, who have shared my hopes and sorrow, and who loved my most excellent boy, even if you'd never met him.

Most of all, I am thankful to have had him in my life, if only for such a short time. Loving is short, forgetting is long, according to Naruda. For forgetting, read grieving. This is going to be hard.

Little Louis, little love

One of the first photos of my sweet, charming, baby boy.

And one of the last.

Louis, my darling darling. October 2009—March 27 2014

Louis Update day 5

Quick visit this afternoon. Oh, hullo, Mother, from the lad; pleased to see me, but not quite so ecstatic as yesterday.

Keiran the vet says he's much better than he was on Friday—why yes, yes he is!—and the leg movement is indeed Good News.

'He hasn't really been making faeces', though, because he's not really been eating much, and he still has the catheter in—it will come out on Wednesday—so we still don't know if he can Go Independently, but Keiran seemed much more optimistic overall that if his legs are moving, then hopefully his bladder muscles (?) have not been damaged. I think that's what he said. Are bladder muscles a thing?

Anyway, it's so far, so good. Chap seems sanguine about his circumstances; rolled over without wincing, gave me an old-fashioned look for leaving, but had a gob and a half full of Aldi chicken, so perhaps, tomorrow, he might make some faeces. Go Lou. 

(I should also note I had a nice chat with another of the nurses, Sammy, who looked about 15, but who I am sure is actually completely competent and was definitely lovely, who mentioned to me that the nurses tend to see things the vets don't, and she was quite cheerful about m'lad's progress, particularly in the eating department.)

Louis Update Day 4

As soon as I arrived at the vet's and asked 'How is he today', the vet nurse's face lit up and she said, 'Oh, he's doing so much better!' And as soon as I saw him, I could see what she meant. He was in a different cage: they clean them out regularly, and as I suspect he's been weeing straight from the catheter onto the bedding, I am glad they do! Another nurse—Wendy, I think, who is chatty and lovely with all the animals (although not backward with the horror stories, neither—I really didn't want to hear about her cat who got shot, nor the graphic description of the injuries...)—told me that he'd moved himself to the front of the cage. And sure enough, there he was, pressed against the wire door, his back legs tucked up and his face and front legs right against the door.

And for the first time, he meowed when he saw me, and he sat himself up—his front half, anyway. I didn't open the door at first, as I was a bit worried about him being so close to the door, but he wasn't happy with just through-the-wire pats, so I opened it and we had a lovely long cuddle, his head pressed into my chest and lots of purring and the odd meow. He's not a very chatty cat at the best of times, so it was good to hear his creaky little voice.

And his back legs are definitely moving. I saw him retract and stretch them both several times. And he ate—he really was hungry, but I think he's finding it awkward to eat out of the tiny bowl his food was in, so I hand fed him Aldi chicken and he gobbled it up. I don't know why they don't just put it on a flat dish, would be much easier for him.

He still has the catheter in, so fingers crossed he can wee by himself when that comes out. (Looks extremely uncomfortable, a bit of plastic stuck in his urethra!)

There's absolutely no doubt at all he is much improved. At one stage, he tried to stand up, or move himself or something, and it hurt him, and he yowled, so he's going to have to learn he can't do that yet. But the relief, oh the relief, at seeing his legs move! And I stroked his left foot and he didn't like it, which means pain response, which is GOOD!

The thing that fascinates me is how he reacts—or rather, doesn't react—to all the other animals around him. Little Dexter, the black and white cat I wrote about yesterday, was meowing quite a bit, and Louis didn't react at all. And he is NOT a fan of cats he doesn't know. He's not entirely mad about the ones he does. And there was a sweet little puppy next to him who was desperate for me to give him some love, and was putting his paws through and licking me, and Louis didn't mind a bit. Worse still, there was a beautiful big dog, some French breed I'd never heard of, but the colour of golden syrup and curly/shaggy, who had only come in about an hour before, because a snake had slid over his foot, and they didn't know if he'd been bitten or not. Beau was his name, and he barked and howled the entire time, because he DID NOT want to be in that cage (which admittedly he all but filled), away from his people. The vet on duty was running various tests to see if he had been bitten, and it seemed they decided not, because eventually they said to him 'Oh, be quiet, your mother will be here in a minute.'

And in all that noise, DOG noise, Louis didn't bat an ear. It's funny—any other time with a dog making that racket, he'd have been very alert, frightened even, but nothing.

Although I have to say, by the time I left, and he knew I was going, he had a rather Put Out expression on his face. Enough of this! he seemed to be thinking. Why are you leaving? And why can't I come too? These stupid dogs are bugging me!

Lovely, lovely boy. Onward and upwards, I hope. I am so bouyed by the fact that his legs were moving, and now I just have to pray he can wee independently. Good boy, Louis, good boy!

Louis update 22 March 2014

Louis Update Saturday Morning:

I visited Mr Lou again this morning. They took the collar off him as he kept more or less knocking it off anyway, so it was a lot easier to give him head rubs and ear scratches. He was again very smoochy, but not quite so desperate to push himself into me! I took in cans of the Aldi chicken that he really likes, and he licked at the gravy, but at first wouldn't eat it more than that. So then I tried him with a sachet of the Aldi beef mince he also adores, but he didn't even really sniff at it. Later, though, he ate some of the chicken, properly ate some—not a lot, but some, so that was good. I'm pretty sure it's all he's eaten since Wednesday morning.

I also observed him several times gently stretching and raising his back legs—both of them, even the left leg, which is the one they're most worried about. I told the nurses and vet, and they said that was good news. They're all so lovely there, and are more than happy for me to stay as long as I want with him (I was there about an hour). Oh, and they found the food I took in on Thursday! IT was in a plastic bin full of dog kibble!

I feel a bit more optimistic, having seen this tiny improvement for myself. And he was grooming himself as well, which is excellent. Let's hope it continues! And yes, it is very early days, and a long, long road ahead.

When Louis first went in on Wednesday night, there was a smallish black and white cat in one of the cages, on a drip and looking pretty miserable. His family came in to visit him today. He's off the drip, and they were able to take him out for a cuddle. And, oh, how he cried! Wah-woooong! Wah-wong! and flung himself into his people. Mostly, into the dad of the family—6 foot plus, sleeve tattoos, ear keepers and eyebrow piercing, bald and a goatee, and he kissed and cuddled his little boy, and crooned to him and it was the sweetest thing. Just like Jackson Galaxy! The kids and the wife barely got a look in.

I'm exhausted. Am going to try and get some work done this afternoon. If you're waiting on something from me, apologies. And please keep thinking good thoughts for my baby boy.

Bad news from Louis-ville

My beautiful Louis was clipped by a car on the night of Wednesday 19 March—just under 48 hours ago as I write this. He's very badly injured: his pelvis is broken in 3 places, and the vets are worried about nerve damage, as his left leg in particular is not very responsive. They've also had to catheterise him, as he hasn't been able to wee by himself. But it's early days yet and I am trying to stay hopeful, remembering what a strong, healthy boy he is.

I am going to use this post to record all my posts and updates from Facebook. And if you are reading this, please send all your fiercest good wishes to my baby boy. Thanks.

Thursday 20 March 2014

My beautiful sweet Louis got clipped or rolled or something by a car last night and is at the vet's with a broken pelvis. It's been a very upsetting 12 hours and I don't yet know how bad the damage is. The good news is he doesn't seem to have any internal injuries or damage to the spine, but he does seem to have some nerve damage to his hind left leg, on the side where the break is. Regardless, a broken pelvis is a Very Bad Thing with a long recovery period.

The vet will take more xrays this afternoon, under anaesthetic, and we will know more then. I am very very lucky and very grateful that some kind people saw him trying to get off the road and stopped their car and took him into the nearest house, and that those people looked after him and rang me immediately and then the woman even came with me to the emergency vet so she could keep hold of the box they'd put him in and make sure he didn't try to escape (which he did when we put the box in the car).

I know you all know how much I love my Louis L'Amour and how upset I am, and I know many of you feel like you know him from all my Facebook postings. He's the sweetest of all possible sweet cats, and it's going to be a long recovery. So whatever personal rituals you do around well wishings for the sick and injured, they would be very welcome.

(And please do not make any observations about cats being allowed outside. I know all the arguments and I also know my Louis and how miserable he would be shut indoors. This is the risk, I know, and I have always known something like this might happen. It doesn't make it any less devastating and if you feel in the mood to provide a lecture, please go and make it to a tree in your garden. Thanks.)

Later that night:

Louis update. 

First of all, thank you all so much for the kind wishes, encouraging stories and unqualified love sent Louis' and my way. It has made a huge difference to know so many people care about me and my little boy cat.

I visited Louis this afternoon after he'd been put under anaesthetic so they could take more x-rays without hurting him. The news about his pelvis is bad: he has 3, possibly 4 fractures, by which I mean three sections broken clean through. The 4th is a possible chip of the fractured bone. It is, as the vet said, a mess, and to my untrained eye, it also looks as if his pelvis is out of alignment.

Miraculously, though, there are no other fractures or internal injuries.

He was very pleased to see me and Jennie, who came with me to visit him, and was demanding of many head and chin rubs.

The options for treatment are:

1. Surgery. Expensive, invasive, with yet more anaesthetic, added tissue trauma and a higher risk of infection—and no greater guarantee of recovery.

2. Conservative management, which means 6-8 weeks confined in a crate, and allowing the bones to repair/knit themselves. There is no way of knowing what nerve damage there will be and if he will be able to walk at the end of the 6 weeks.

The vet said that they could make a lot of money out of me by recommending surgery, and I'd get a perfect x-ray out of it, but the whole team there agreed that the second option is the best option.

So it looks like I will be bringing him home, and keeping him confined in a crate (which I will have to buy) and give him high level hand nursing, possibly including toileting, for the next two months. And hoping and hoping that he recovers mobility and will be with me for a lot longer yet.

Oh, and I think I figured out what happened. I stopped off to take flowers to the woman, Sheree, who helped him last night, called me and came with me to the vet. I could see bird feathers along the nature strip where it happened, and Sheree said they get a lot of birds killed on the road, and people kick them to the kerb near her bins. Apparently there was a dead rainbow lorikeet on the road yesterday—and their house is right at the point where Macquarie Street goes from 1 lane to 2. I suspect he was sniffing at a dead bird on the verge, and a car veered around a parked car into the start of the left lane, not seeing him there, and clipped him.

It's absolutely no-one's fault, except maybe Louis's for roaming so far from home. I remain deeply upset and worried about how well he will recover, but have my jaw set to look after him as well as possible when he comes home.

Friday 21 March 2014

Louis update:

Not good news, alas. Just spoke to the vet. They did neurological testing this morning and his left leg is not very responsive. They are worried there is spinal damage not shown by the x-ray. He says his right leg has good pain response, but he's worried his left leg may be paralysed. They've also had to put a catheter in as he isn't weeing, and they don't know if that's because of pain/discomfort or if it's because of neurological damage. He hasn't attempted to stand up at all, and the vet said he's more worried about him today than he was yesterday. If he's paralysed, and he can't wee, we're in real trouble.

On the bright side, he's 'bright'. I'm not.

Later that day:

Visiting Louis: update

Just back home from visiting Louis. When I got there, he was asleep, tucked inside the same kind of green dome collar Cooper wore back home after his burn. The collar is because of the catheter; they have to keep him from worrying at it.

It took him a few groggy seconds to realise it was me stroking his head, and he was very, very pleased to see me. He turned himself around—his front legs are as strong as ever—and pushed his face into my chest, while I stroked his back and rubbed around his head. He even managed to get his front paws inside the collar—he was seriously up for a cuddle. And he purred, and while I know cats can purr when distressed and in pain, I am pretty sure in this instance he was purring with pleasure to have me there.

I stayed with him for about an hour. The staff at Vineyard Vet are lovely about letting you visit, and they don't mind a bit of you have a big old cry, which of course, I did.

Keiran, the nice young Irish vet who has cared for Louis since I took him in on Wednesday night, said to me tonight that it's basically a waiting game—he needs time to recover and we'll see when the inflammation goes down how he improves. And I know there's an 'if' in there as well. But he's strong and healthy and I have to hang on to that and to the knowledge that he is getting the best care he possibly can.

He hasn't eaten much; I took in some cans of fancy chicken last night, but it was total chaos and I am not sure the woman I gave them to really registered who they were for (although I did write on them!). Anyway, they couldn't find them tonight, so I stopped off at Aldi on the way home and got him a bag full of their chicken, which he adores. He wouldn't eat anything we gave him tonight, although I could tell he was hungry. Kieran even heated up some BBQ chicken and he turned his nose up. I'll take the food in first thing tomorrow.

My poor, poor darling. He was so happy to see me, and I felt awful leaving him. He was trying to get out of the cage to get to me, so in the end I had to leave so that Keiran could put him back in properly and safely—I'm really frightened of hurting him.

It hasn't even been 48 hours yet, and there's a long road ahead. I have to remember that, and hope and trust that all will be well. He is so very precious to me, and who will cuddle me in bed at night if Louis is gone?

Thanks again for all your love and support. It means the world to me.