My cat was diagnosed with CRF about two weeks ago. The same day, the vet also determined that the mass we'd recently found on her tail was most likely problematic and recommended amputation. Isis made it through the tail amputation rather well, considering her recent weight loss and not-so-healthy state--the day she came home from surgery, she was able to jump onto the guest room bed, walk around, and ask for attention. She also showed interest in food, although she wasn't eating much.
Now less than two weeks later, it seems that her kidneys are worsening rapidly. On Saturday she exhibited trouble walking--hind-end weakness and wobliness. We took her to the vet, who gave her subcutaneous fluids and recommended that we do the same at home for at least the next two weeks (and potentially "the rest of her life").
We've done the fluid treatment for the past two nights, so she's had fluids three days in a row. While she has perkier moments, the fluids aren't making the difference I was hoping...yet. We are supposed to take Isis to the vet tomorrow to have the sutures in her tail stump removed. The vet wants to re-check her then, but warned that if she wasn't showing significant improvement, it might be time to talk about "what we want for her, and what's best for her". She's a cat who spent her adult life at 10-12 lbs. She was at 6.7 lbs before the surgery, and 6.2 lbs when we took her in a week later for the emergency appointment.
I feel horrible guilt about going ahead with the tail amputation surgery. The vet said at the time that we'd caught the CRF relatively early, so there was a good chance we had months or even years left with her. But now it appears that the CRF is advancing quickly. The fact that she can't walk well really upsets me. The fact that she tried to jump on the guest room bed again last night and failed (I had to catch her to keep her from falling onto the floor) devastates me. I hate that I put her through a painful surgery for what feels like nothing now.
I want to hold out hope that the fluids will help, but I can't avoid asking the obvious--am I just keeping her alive for me at this point? She will never be cured. She will never be the cat she once was, even if she improves. At the same time, I don't want to give up on her.
I've had to euthanize pets in the past but the decision never felt this hard. I'm sure it has a lot to do with the fact that she's my favorite kitty, and one of the greatest animals I've ever known. :(