I decided to write about fostering (or adopting) senior pets even as I deeply mourn the passage of Tucksie, whom I fostered for 8 months. We euthanized him yesterday at the animal shelter and he died with his head resting on my hand. Now seems a good moment because in spite of the mourning I have already told the shelter I want to foster more senior cats.
If you can afford to cover all pet-associated expenses and can adopt I highly recommend adopting a senior. For those who can’t afford it, I highly recommend finding out if any of your local shelters have a fostering program and give a home to a senior who needs it. If you foster all medical needs are covered by the shelter’s veterinary staff and I mean all: check-ups, medicine, surgery… They also supply a lot of the pet’s needs, like a cage, a litter box, litter, and at least some of the food so if you don’t have some or any of those things you’re covered. It’s a great way to get the joy of having a little furry one if you can’t afford the high costs these days.
I’m touting for seniors because they’re often the least wanted. Seniors are usually much more quiet, calm and unobtrusive, having already moved past the climb the curtains, eat all the shoes, etc. stages. There are lots of retirees where I live so senior cats at the shelter often have been beloved in a happy home but their owner died with no one able to take the pet. Others are found on the street or taken away from abusive and/or hoarder situations.
In Tucksie’s case, he was taken away from a “cat hoarder” situation. At 15 and having thyroid disease he was considered unadoptable. I wasn’t given a lot of info but some additions were made as we chatted yesterday: the cats were not well taken care of, probably had a pretty miserable existence and were in such bad shape that nine months later Tucksie was the last survivor.
I wish I’d known all that at the beginning so I’m going to offer the advice to do some digging with the shelter staff. Tucksie was the sweetest, most gentle cat I ever met but he was also perpetually frightened. He cowered almost every time I reached a hand toward him even tho in my house that meant a scratch or a pet. For the first month he hid out in the area of the condo where my empty and unpacked boxes are still strewn amongst the Dad furniture I’ve never managed to get out of here. I just assumed he was an anxious cat and a new person and home were a big adjustment.
Most of my life I’ve had dogs and cats running up to me to get a pat, even, according to many owners, pets who normally hide from everyone aside from the owner. In Lexington I had a regular walk route on which I generally had to stop at least once in front of any of 3 or 4 particular houses where the cat would materialize in front of me on the sidewalk and demand to be patted, some even flopped over for a belly rub. So Tucksie was an enigma for me once we moved past the understandable phase of adjusting to being thrust in a new place.
At the end, once the decision was made he was suffering from too many ailments the vet said she could give him a topical that would ease pain for a few days and gave me a pill (Cerenia, which is an anti-nausea but can also calm) that, among other things, could help him be calm for a happy last weekend. The pill changed everything for the little time we had left. Suddenly instead of cowering and hiding he spent a lot of time out and if I laid down beside him instead of shrinking under the nearest piece of furniture he leaned his head into mine or rolled over to present his belly for rubbing–he’d never done either before.
It’s not that he never cuddled and he liked to spend a lot of time on my bed — especially if I wasn’t on it. But it was always tentative and short-lived and he wouldn’t sit in my lap or sleep with as much of him pressed against me as he could manage the way my own cats did. The change in behavior with the medicine was radical on so many levels.
We talked yesterday at the shelter about how the same or a similar medicine given for a few days at the beginning might have changed his whole 8 months with me. Between the behavior I didn’t know how to cope with and ignorance about available medicine, I didn’t know to ask for it but if I ever get another one who’s as freaked out as he was for the first weeks I will absolutely ask to get something to calm the cat down for a few days and hopefully acclimate better.
Another arena for making sure you ask a lot of questions is medical. The only ailment I was told about and given medication for was thyroid disease. At each of the regular checkups the vet just told me the blood test re: thyroid was good and once they changed the dosage. They also handed me a printout with more on it, including always a mention of a heart murmur and checking his teeth. Because no one mentioned either to me, the language of the printouts was too technical for me, and no medicine was ever prescribed for either, I assumed these were minor flags they were keeping an eye on. I thought as long as the thyroid stayed okay he might have a few years left.
When the vet came out to discuss putting him down, part of the conversation was about how bad his heart disease and diseased teeth both were, there were signs of osteoarthritis and the thyroid medicine had worked so they could now diagnose advancing kidney disease (a common result of restoring thyroid in cats). Next time I plan to grill them from the beginning about every known diagnosis and what each means.
The “time to euthanize” conversation came as such a shock because I thought I was just taking him in for another routine check on the thyroid and whether the dosage was okay and suddenly I’m finding out he had massive life-threatening issues I’d never understood. They’re so overworked and stretched at the shelters, I get it they’re often giving what seems key and trying to move on to the next pressing issue so it’s up to me to ask questions and now I understand much more about which I need to ask.
At the moment I’m still in the phase where I’m crying every hour or so and a minute after crying getting up to check about his food and looking around to see if he’s sleeping in one of his favorite spots and crying again because I’ve put away the food dishes and of course he’s not anywhere…
And in spite of the pain I want to do it again because it felt like an honor to provide a soft landing for an innocent creature who didn’t deserve to spend his last days in a cage in the stress of the shelter. In the case of Tucksie they told me yesterday I had probably provided him with the calmest most cared-for 8 months of his life. Sometimes you’d be caring for one who was well loved and is in mourning for their lost owner. Either way, a home and loving arms is so much better than a cage.
For much of my life I don’t know if I could have tolerated this path but I’ve reached a stage where it just feels so good to know I can give this gift to a bunch of senior cats in the time I have left. I get it’s not for everyone.
Fostering can also be taking in babies who need to be bottle fed for a couple of weeks or a young cat who’s had surgery or an illness and needs a spell of quiet and someone to give a shot or medicine before they go to the adoption shelter. So if you think you can’t handle the constant more permanent loss involved with taking in seniors there are still ways you can really help. I encourage everyone to open their hearts and homes to senior dogs and cats to let them have a sweeter ending.


















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