Lexington’s Departure

Posted on December 15, 2019 by Pamela Knudsen

As I dipped a teabag into the mug of boiling water, I thought to myself, I need to check on Lexington. While holding my cup of tea, I walked into the bedroom and stood there dumbfounded for a moment. The bed was empty. Then I realize that my mind cleverly tricked itself into forgetting, for a few moments, that Lexington is no longer here; that his spirit was set free from his ailing body. It’s amazing what the mind can do to protect the grieving heart.

My little lion lost his battle with cancer the afternoon of December 10, 2019, and man, did he ever fight the battle, even up to the moment that Dr. Julie of Home Pet Euthanasia of Southern California arrived at the front gate. During the hours before Dr. Julie arrived, Lexington, stubbornly insisted on continuing his normal activities. He wobbled to the front door indicating that he wanted to go outside. “Anything you want, sweetie,” I told him as I opened the door. I picked him up and walked onto the grass and laid him down in the newly grown lemon clovers where he used to love to lounge. I lay next to him, with tears coming down my face, yet smiling to see him finding some joy despite his withered and sickly condition.

April 2019 Lexi and the Lemon Clovers

I brought him inside where he lay on the area rug in the living room, yet, after a few minutes, he got himself in a standing position and slowly walked to the front door, insisting, once again on going outside. I opened the front door and Lexington continued his wobbly walk down the walk way to the birdbath, me trailing behind him, ready to lend a hand. But on his own he sauntered on up to his favorite watering hole and took a few licks of water, just as Dr. Julie arrived at the front gate. I explained to her that despite his seemingly active behavior, he was ready. Over the past few days he’d become listless. The day before he’d lost all interest in food, except for some bites of baked chicken that evening of which his tummy rejected at 1:00 a.m. I was up most the night with him; it was very clear, his little body was shutting down. Dr. Julie explained it’s common with animals and humans that as we become aware of our impending death, our survival instincts, our will-to-live kicks in.

May 2019 Lex at the Watering Hole

I picked up Lexington and held him gently, yet tightly into my chest. We walked into the cottage, I placed him on the bed from where he would depart with me and Bobcat by his side.

December 8, 2019, two days before Lexi’s departure and I knew at that time it would be a matter of days.

It’s been not quite a week since Lexington’s departure. I’m not yet accustomed to his absence, which is profound right now, despite having Bobcat lovingly by my side. We were tight, me and Lex. We had a bond from the moment I met him at the adoption center back in March of 2006. I suspect I will not adapt to his absence anytime soon, but relief that he’s not suffering consoles me.

Little Lion, pictured with his favorite toys, Mr. Wormy and the tennis ball

In loving memory of Lexington, a.k.a Lex, Lexi, Big Lex, Little Lion and Prince Lexington

Thank you to my dear friends and family for your kind and loving support.

I couldn’t do this grieving thing without you…

The Dogged Cat

Posted on July 30, 2019 by Pamela Knudsen

Lexington’s two front legs make a languid stretch out from under his chest; first the left, then the right with his big paws leading the way. He props himself up into a sphinx-like position, yawning as he awakes from napping on the porch. He looks at me, blinks, and says “hello” with a raspy meow. He slowly transitions into a standing position, making it evident that he’s lost muscle mass, and that movement is no longer effortless. He attempts to walk down the three stairs of the porch, but I pick him up and walk him over to the grass.

Lexington gingerly walks around the yard sniffing weeds, he gently pushes a tennis ball with his paw all the while vocalizing chirps and meows in various pitches and modulations. I watch the heart-warming scene, grateful that he’s still here and happy, even though I know certain movements are not comfortable for him. I help him as much as possible to alleviate extra stress on his little body. I lift him up onto the sofa, the bed, and transport him from the porch whenever I can. If it were up to him, he’d do everything by himself despite the discomfort, and at times, pain. Felines are stoic, like so many animals, when they are suffering. It’s their genetic connection to their wildcat cousins that mask pain to throw-off predators.

Some days he doesn’t leave the bed and he looks fatigued as he stares off at nothing in particular. I’ve often thought over the past two months that he wouldn’t make it through the summer, but here we are, two weeks past his supposed “time” according to the vet’s prognosis. Lexington stills enjoying lounging on the porch, exploring the yard, hanging out at the “local watering hole” with Bobcat.

Recently, he joined a small soiree that I had here at the cottage, warming the hearts of guests as he waltzed onto the patio then sat with friends Michael and Laura while observing the partygoers.

Lexington’s body may have cancer, but his determined spirit isn’t ready to move on just yet.

I attribute his relative well being to CBD edibles for cats made by Hempstrax, my doting attention and love, the love of Bobcat, the tranquil environment of our home, and the love, attention and prayers from friends and family.

I thank everyone for your support of my darling Lexington.

XOXO

More Good Days, Please

Posted on June 19, 2019 by Pamela Knudsen

Back in October, I noticed Lexington looking a little less brawny, and he didn’t seem his usual lively self. He was getting older and was in the beginning stage of renal failure, but I sensed something else was brewing and took him to the vet.

Blood work indicated inflammatory issues, and an ultrasound revealed a mass in his liver. My vet strongly suspected cancer. Getting a tissue biopsy would provide a definitive diagnosis, but would be too risky between Lexington’s weakened condition and age—about 16 years. Treatment options were limited. Steroids would reduce inflammation, but would cause serious, potentially fatal complications. I suggested cannabidiol “CBD” derived from the cannabis herb, known for its anti-inflammatory, immune boosting, pain killing, and appetite stimulant properties. My vet was not legally permitted to prescribe CBD, but he concurred with my suggested modality, asking to see Lexington for a follow-up visit in two months or sooner if his condition worsened.

I purchase at Coast Pet Supply and can be used on cats as well as dogs.

Within hours of giving Lexington CBD oil, his appetite came back, along with his sweet and playful personality. The two-month visit resulted in no changes—he was maintaining. And I maintained hope that what ailed him was something benign.

By mid-May, Lex’s appetite started to wane and he looked even thinner. He also had a hard time transitioning from standing to reclining. I took him back the vet. This time the diagnosis was definitive. A cancerous tumor had developed off of his liver. My vet advised that Lex had a few weeks to a couple of months to live, suspecting the cancer was aggressive. What a blow to my heart. I hated that my sweet Lexington was suffering. Besides that, he was old, but without this malignancy, Lexington would have been able to advance into his golden years. Instead, he was facing palliative care.

When we got home from the vet’s office, I gave Lexington a higher dose of CBD hoping to alleviate the increased discomfort he was experiencing. His appetite returned. Over the next few days, I observed that he still gingerly lowered himself to a reclining position, but his walk was more purposeful. He ventured off the bed and into the living room, and managed to hoist himself onto the sofa. He was feeling better. I don’t know how long the CBD will keep him going, but it’s clearly helping.

I had planned on attending a writer’s retreat in Palm Springs, which was scheduled three weeks from the day I learned about the tumor. I called the facilitator of the retreat to tell her I would not be able to attend. Rather, I took that week off from work and lavished Lexington with extra love. He got lots of “brushies” (he loves to be brushed), lots of porch time, and lots of time by my side while I wrote, read, listened to podcasts and sipped tea.

It’s been about a month since the diagnosis. Lexington and I will be on a roller coaster ride with the good days and the bad days that will lead to the last day. But for now, Lexington is doing pretty good. He just gobbled down his favorite dinner, baked chicken.