On March 14th at around 1:20 AM Shuman got up from where he was tucked under my arm cuddling, crouched beside me, and began breathing heavily. I thought for a moment he was about to cough up a hairball, so I sat up to stroke his back and soothe him, and I immediately realized something was wrong. He was open mouth panting and long thick strings of drool where hanging from his chin. I woke Shain and we discovered he'd lost control of his bladder, we made 2 quick phone calls to 2 emergency vets in Ann Arbor, Shuman got down off the bed during these and went to hide under Shain's desk. We quickly bundled him into a carrier and down stairs. While Shain was gathering their things to prepare to drive us to the vet, Shuman's breathing went from labored to choking and he lost control of his bowels. I unzipped the soft carrier and desperately tried to do... something, anything to help my baby, I think this is when he stopped breathing, before I could even lift his head. I'm not sure when he died. It could have been before we got out the door, or shortly after we pulled out of the driveway. I thought he started breathing again at one point, about a minute or two down the road, but I don't know, I was so desperate for him to be alright. Whenever he passed, it was under 10 minutes from when I first noticed something was wrong. This was either a sudden heart attack, or congestive heart failure. I intend to speak to his vet about if this could have been brought on by the steroids he was on to soothe his IBD and help him gain weight. His heart wasn't even on my radar. I was so focused on all his other organs.
He was my everything, my best friend, my ugly old man baby. I feel empty without him. He spent his last day on earth comforting Tim while he had food poisoning. He was the best emotional support animal ever. He was just so happy to be here, and wanted to befriend everyone he met. He's the reason I stopped self harming. I knew that no matter how bad things were it was gonna be okay because Shuman was there. All cats are unique and wonderful, but he was truly something special. A once in a lifetime kind of pet. I would do anything to have one more hour of cuddles and purrs with him. To hear his ugly grunts and croaking meow again. To wake up to him dripping drool on my face because he's purring so hard. My Stinky. The patron saint of Irritable Bowel Disease.
