A Mother Knows...

So on Sunday night, I had this dream that Max, my beautiful 4 year old cat, died! My memory is fuzzy on "how", but I vividly recall holding his (soft, furry,) dead body. I woke up at 4AM and called for him so I could ensure this event had in fact only occurred in my slumbering visions. He came, we cuddled, all was well.

Then on Monday night I start wrapping up my evening around 10:30. As usual, I call for Max to inform him that it's time for bed. Only he doesn't come. I assume he's been accidentally shut in a closet so I start to search for him. I open all the doors I remembered opening, then I open every cabinet and door in the house. No signs of Max. I occasionally hear a jingle (of a collar)and my heart skips a beat until I realize that it's only Lucy. I start to think about when I saw him last...I remembered him cuddling with me and Lucy on the couch after supper, I recalled petting him after cleaning the pool filter thingee, but I didn't remember seeing him after I took out the trash. Oh no! He must be outside. So I send out the search party. (Okay, so really I just went out alone with a flashlight.) I am shining the light in the bushes looking for an signs of movement, when I start to feel raindrops. The drops quickly turn to rain and I start to panic. I walk back inside to perform yet another walk through. Nothing. I call his name and whistle-nothing. So I do the only thing I can think to do....I get in my car and slowly scour the neighborhood, looking for a black cat. I've lost my mind and my neighbors are wondering what I am doing at this point. Aware of Max's disappearance for an hour now, I return home dejected. I enter the house in tears, unsure of what I can do. Logic tells me everything is fine: he has a collar, he is microchipped, lots of cats live outside, there are no wild animals here, rain is just water, someone will find him, someone will call, I can go to bed. My heart tells me something is wrong: Max doesn't go outside, Max comes when he is called, Max is not vaccinated, Max is not a normal cat, Max has anaphalactic allergies, I HAD A DREAM. (I know you think I'm crazy, but lots of my dreams are prophetic.) Anyway...feeling helpless, I walk into my kitchen and see the most beautiful sight in the world. Max is on my kitchen counter. Normally, I would clap my hands loudly and yell at him to get down, instead I picked him up and held him for a few minutes telling him, "Never do that again; Mommy was so scared. Why didn't you come?"

Tuesday he hid from me most of the evening. He got up on a shelf in a corner behind one of my framed pictures. When he got up he knocked over my photograph and I yelled at him. He got down and hid for the rest of the evening. I was feeling frustrated because his personality seemed to be changing. He has always been a momma's boy. He rarely leaves my side and has always been very obedient. Assuming he was mad about Lucy, I just hoped that he would get used to the idea and start cuddling again soon.

Wednesday morning I wake up sad, because it was the 2nd night Max hadn't slept with me. I found him in the closet up on a shelf. He was smacking his mouth a little and I noticed his fur was a bit sticky, but he purred when I pet him, so I shrugged it off assuming he had gotten into something sticky. I told a few friends at work that I just felt like something was wrong. I told them he wasn't being himself. That and the dream were still really worrying me, but you can't take a cat to the vet with these complaints. So I thought "I must be neurotic".

Wednesday afternoon he's being his what has become normal self and hiding. But before I go running at 7:30 I decide to search for him. I find him under my bed COVERED in drool. I put him in the sink to look in his mouth. He won't let me, and he stays there for several hours. I know realize he is not eating, drinking, or using his litter box. After my run, I goggle "cats drooling". This search further supports my speculation that he has an infection in his mouth. I spend the evening petting him and trying to get him to drink water (to no avail). Then fall into a restless sleep.

Thursday morning I get up and get ready very early and wait around until the vet opens. I call them at exactly 7:01 and they say I can bring him at 8. He doesn't even fight me as I put him in the carrier! I get there at 7:45 and leave him in there care while I go to work. The phone calls confirm the diagnosis of oral infection. They start him on an IV and antibiotics and do blood work to search for a cause to this aggressive illness. They put him under to perform surgery. They extracted 4 teeth and found ulcers in his mouth. Poor baby! The veterinarian thinks that he caught calcinivirus from Lucy, and became sick very quickly because of his compromised immune system. I picked him up at the end of the day and he looked pitiful!

He's doing better now, but definitely still getting his strength back. He still has a runny nose and eyes. And he's losing fur above his eyes. And his mouth is oozing. Poor guy. But he is purring...so I know he's feeling better. Plus he's not hiding from me (only Lucy!). :)

But seriously a mother knows. While I'm definitely sad that he is/was sick, I'm very glad that:
1) I'm not crazy (there was something wrong!)
2) His personality isn't changing. He is still my sweet, obedient Maxwell Milton.

Pray for him to get better. Max is my best friend. He's the only ones who has made it through 3 states with me and always been there for me. I know it sounds crazy, but he really is my closest confident. I tell him everything and he always listens. :) I don't know what I'd do if I lost him. So pray. Pray that he can fight this infection and pray that he doesn't get another one. My dream cannot come true.