The old English proverb about “A cat having nine lives,” goes on to say, “For three he plays, for three he strays, and for the last three he stays.” Though only a proverb, myth, or legend—and not to be taken seriously—it could not hold more true for our cat Alex, who survived against all odds, lived some of his life on borrowed time, and cheated death multiple times. Through all of his challenges and near-death experiences, Alex beat the odds and lived a surprisingly long life until August 2020, when he had a fatal stroke that left him paralyzed and took his life, his ninth and final life.
The amazing story of Alex’s earlier life as an abandoned cat living outside can be read here. The abbreviated version of Alex’s life to the spring of 2015, is Alex survived outside as an abandoned cat. He totally depended on ours and our neighbors attentive daily support. We fed Alex outside every morning and night for over 10 years, watching over him, worrying about him, running surveillance cameras on him, and reconnaissance on him if we saw something that concerned us. When Alex started losing weight and appeared to have one very large, abnormal chin that protruded like the Easter Island stone statues—I acted, grabbed my trap, baited it with tuna, and captured him. Lucky for Alex, because he was bleeding from his chin abscess, and was losing blood, and growing weaker by the day. A couple of days later, once used to his cage upstairs, I whisked him up and took him to our trusted vet, Four Corners Veterinary Hospital, to look at his abscessed chin and check his overall health. Surgery was needed, and performed that week, where they flushed his wound, put a drain in place, gave him a round of antibiotics, and I recovered him in his cage giving him daily compresses. Alex knew we were helping him, and he let us. His wound healed and Alex was almost as good as new, now. But because Alex had lived outside for 10-15 years prior, his mouth was full of resorbed and fractured teeth. He had terrible inflammation of the gums, and severe periodontal disease, which was causing him obvious discomfort. He desperately needed dental surgery—and soon. So a couple of weeks later, after Alex’s chin was fully healed, he went back for his likely first ever dental cleaning, and surgery, that removed several fractured, resorbed and painful teeth that were causing swelling and severe inflammation in his mouth. Alex had been living in chronic discomfort, as many cats that are abandoned and forced to live outside without medical care, do. His prognosis was good though, but it was highly recommended that we get dental x-rays every year for Alex to watch for further tooth resorption that increases with age. A year later we returned, and another dental was necessary to address Alex’s disastrous mouth in March 2016. Time to remove more resorbed and fractured teeth and address the severe gingivitis that had developed.
Meanwhile, I had continued to trap, rescue and recover homeless cats that were abandoned outside, carefully adding only one at a time to our upstairs rescue cat sanctuary. But one cat in July 2017, Miss Mia, a beautiful, svelte brown tabby, unfortunately had the temperament of a piranha or barracuda. This otherwise peaceful, adoring and affectionate cat to humans, turned into a deadly monster with felines — she wanted to kill her fellow cat mates! As complicated and time-consuming as it was, I separated all of them into individual rooms and kept Mia isolated from the others. But occasionally Mia was smartly waiting right at the door, and would lunge out in a fit of cat fury and frenzied rage and attack the innocent cat casually meandering by. So, after enduring Mia’s murderous rampages, Alex had enough. Enough was enough Alex must have said to himself, and he took matters into his own hands, and one very hot summer night, he pushed the upstairs window screen off the window, and jumped onto the roof. As he leapt, Alex said sayonara to Mia and all the rest of us, and happily exited. Alex disappeared into the darkness that night and started living “another one of his nine lives,” by straying again. And no surprise, that he would have nothing to do with a being trapped again, and he snubbed his nose at my nightly attempts to get him back. Until I gave up, four long weeks later. I closed the trap, and brought it inside. And worried about Alex every day after.
It had been one full year that I was consumed with worry and concern about Alex—checking my wildlife camera to see how he was doing, checking in with my neighbor to see that he was eating morning and night, looking out the peep hole of my front door watching him outside the front door, and running surveillance every chance I could get. Like before, I noticed Alex was losing weight again, and losing fur too—there were big bald spots across Alex’s back now. It had been a year, so February 2018, I decided it was time to rescue this poor guy again, and set the trap back outside. This time I wasn’t going to fool around, I zip-tied the trap door open for two weeks, before setting it one cold winter night. That night, I cut all the zip ties, and listened — snap! I got him! I was over-the-moon happy to get Alex back, and after a few meows and some resistance, he fell into a happy routine living safe and sound inside our home again. Alex became a housecat for good, and decided rugs, cat beds, window ledge pillows, tall cat trees, bed linens, the run of the house, and endless delicious cat food – was a boon compared to the way he used to live. His arch enemy, Mia was adopted and gone, and the remaining three cats upstairs loved on Alex every chance he would let them. Alex clearly was ready for an easier, simpler, more comfortable life—and accepted that another one of his “nine lives” was just fine with him.
Alex was now somewhere between 16-18 years old. He had lost weight and fur, and was thin. He returned to our vet for a checkup and blood test to see how his health compared to the previous year. I noticed that it was painful for Alex to eat, and he could only eat on only one side of his mouth, likely causing his weight loss. It was now June 2019, and it became imperative to do another dental on Alex, where the vet was seeing multiple needed extractions, cavities, and painful teeth and gums. We all agreed, this would be Alex’s last dental, plus we could not afford another dental—we could buy a good used car for the price of a cat dental. Alex approved of this being his last dental too.
But Alex almost did not wake up after his surgery. After five surgical hours, he had two seizures during recovery. Our vet consulted with U.C. Davis Veterinary School about Alex’s sudden and unexpected seizures following his surgery as he lay there (he had a perfect blood panel), and consulted about what medication to give him to prevent more seizures. Thankfully, U.C. Davis’s recommendation was a good choice, and Alex recovered fully, albeit extremely slowly. Alex just checked off another of his nine lives that day. For the next two days, he had trouble regaining his motor skills and the movement in his back legs. His hind legs collapsed underneath him so I confined him to the upstairs so he wouldn’t injure himself. Our vet was concerned that Alex’s reaction in his recovery was suggestive of another problem, a serious problem. Turns out, the cause of Alex’s seizures was a large pulmonary tumor found on x-rays done after his surgery. This was why Alex seized, and unfortunately, we were told, this would likely be the cause of Alex’s final and last “ninth life.”
For his final year, Alex did remarkably well, he gained weight, ate with visible pleasure, would run to his windowsill for nightly petting and brushing sessions, loved chasing his rubber balls across several rooms, ran downstairs for added variety and people watching, and started wanting to be with us downstairs, where we spent the most time. Alex was growing bolder, more confident, and courageous in his old age, and he was also seeking to be closer to us—he trusted us more. This last year of his life, Alex’s true nature and loving spirit became so present. He clearly loved his life now, felt at home with us, and felt at peace with his home. It felt so satisfying to see Alex so happy and content.
My vet had warned me about what to look for with Alex’s lung tumor, and how the visible symptoms like coughing or being short of breath would signal Alex being closer to the end. My Pasha also had a pulmonary tumor and cancer that was growing, so I was looking out for coughing with her as well. Sure enough, the day came in spring 2020, when Alex began coughing. It started occasionally, where he would wheeze, then increased over three months, where it became frequent. An X-ray confirmed that the size of his tumor had grown significantly. It had almost doubled in size. So he was prescribed the corticosteroid, Dex Sodium Phosphate to help keep his tumor size in check, and manage his coughing. I gave him injections on a prescribed schedule, and it helped, for awhile, until it didn’t.
On August 1, 2020, an early Saturday morning, I heard a thump upstairs on the floor. It was strange, foreign, and not normal—something was very wrong. It was immediately followed by a cat meowing obsessively, panicking, crying out. I ran upstairs and to my horror, it was Alex. He had fallen and could not get back up. I have never had a cat experience a stroke before, but Alex had. He was scrambling to stand up, sit up, right himself, but he couldn’t. His entire back end no longer worked, it was paralyzed, and he desperately sought to change that. He could not figure out what had happened and he was terrified. Just terrified. I didn’t want him to get injured, so I held him and tried to console him and comfort him. He was so scared. I called our vet, waited for them to open that morning, and brought him in. We gave him a mild sedative so he could just relax, and feel calmer, and we could spend time with him. I just held him close and reassured him that he was loved and he was safe. As we said our goodbyes to our dear, sweet boy, Alex soon slipped away – he let go of his tired, broken body, and flew free at last. He reveled in his new found freedom and the release of his crippled back legs and body.
Alex truly did live nine lives. He overcome all of his physical obstacles, cheated death numerous times—until he couldn’t any longer. We miss our sweet boy with the fierce will to live, his fierce independence, great big heart, and loving spirit, that made the biggest difference to our lives. Rest in peace our dear, sweet boy Alex. We are always and forever, yours.
See Alex’s earlier rescue story.
