Less than 3 months ago, our precious kitten Nola passed away. My girlfriend and I were devastated. We still are. Our sweet Nola succumbed to Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP) a rare, fatal disease with no cure that almost exclusively affects kittens. It’s actually caused by a feline coronavirus. Yeah. Fucking coronavirus. I read a lot about the disease after her diagnosis, and continued to read about it after her death. It was so cruel it didn’t seem real. This disease we had never heard of, which affects less than 1 in 5000 cats, stole our baby’s life.
At some point in my reading, I learned of a short film about a young couple and their kitten with FIP. As I read the description of the film, I knew it would be heartbreaking to watch. I also knew I had to watch it. I told my girlfriend about it, and after putting it off for a while, we watched it the other day.
I was right. It was heartbreaking. But I was also right that we needed to watch it, and I’m glad we did.
A young man buys a kitten from a small pet store. “The runt of the litter,” the sketchy lady who owns the store tells him. He buys it as a gift for his girlfriend, who is allergic to cats. She is upset when she comes home and sees the kitten. He assures her it is hypoallergenic. Soon, she falls in love with the kitten. They both do. They name it Aeris. It’s a cute white cat with some grey marks. It’s lovable and playful, but doesn’t eat much. Then it has some accidents on the bed. They take it to the vet. The vet feels its belly and becomes concerned. She draws fluid from its belly. The fluid is yellow. The vet says she is worried that the kitten has FIP. She says the only treatment is euthanasia.
They can’t believe it. How could this be? She must be wrong. But the cat is definitely sick. The guy goes to the pet store and yells at the owner, who swears she’d never sell a sick kitten. They take the kitten to another vet, who tells them the first vet could’ve made a mistake. Maybe she drew fluid from its bladder and not its stomach. The fluid was probably just urine, he tells them. The cat seems happy, so everything’s probably fine. They are reassured. Hopeful.
But the kitten is still not eating. It’s lethargic. The young woman learns about some homeopathic treatment and tries it out. The kitten seems to respond positively.
But not for long. One morning the guy wakes up to hear the kitten meowing oddly. He finds it under the bed having a seizure. They freak out and rush to the vet, the one who said the cat was fine. He realizes the cat is most definitely not fine. Its organs are shutting down. It likely has FIP. The only option...euthanasia. They put their kitten down.
It’s a simple yet heartbreaking story, and although I cried through the whole thing, I also found it somewhat comforting. Besides a few different details, it basically depicted the exact experience that my girlfriend and I went through. We brought our kitten to the vet, thinking a little medicine or something would be all it needed. Our vet told us it was possible she had FIP, and that euthanasia might be the only option. We had never heard of FIP, and certainly never imagined losing our kitten before it turned a year old. She couldn’t have a fatal disease with no cure. Impossible.
The main difference between our stories is that in the movie, the kitten is sick from the first day, and it died 12 days after they got it. We had Nola for 9 months, and she was healthy for the vast majority of that time. One of the reasons FIP is so odious is that it can be in the system for months or even a couple years without any signs before turning fatal. I’m so thankful for that time, but that is partly why her illness was such a shock to us. She seemed fine for so long, and all of a sudden…she wasn’t. All because of a virus that she got months earlier, before we even met her.
Another big difference is that Aeris had fluid in her belly. Nola had fluid in her lungs. There are two types of FIP, wet or dry, both fatal. But they are more like two ends of the spectrum, because in some cases, a cat might have symptoms of both. The belly is more noticeable and often causes kittens to lose control of their bodily functions. The fluid in the chest obviously affects the breathing. But both types build up slowly, then reach a tipping point and get progressively worse very quickly. The symptoms start off vague, like eating and playing less, then become much more severe. It’s almost a good thing that the symptoms are not noticeable early on because early detection would not help treat it. So you would know the kitten is terminally ill for a longer period of time without being able to do anything about it. Looking back, we appreciate that we were blissfully ignorant of what was about to happen. She may have been sick for a month or more, but besides the last 10 days or so, she seemed like the healthiest, happiest cat in the world.
So it was a shock to us, and everything felt so surreal. I couldn’t even process what the vet told me when she mentioned “fatal disease” and “euthanasia.” For the rest of the night after that first vet visit, I was in a fog of disbelief and anger and fear.
Then, the next day, just like the couple in the movie, we had hope that our girl was going to be okay. At that point, it was still possible she had some other infection. Maybe it was just me trying to convince myself, but I was feeling positive. In the movie, they try homeopathic medicine to get the kitten to eat. We gave her the medicine from the vet to boost her appetite and treat her fever. We tried all different types of food and treats. She was lethargic and didn’t eat much, but there was no way she could be terminally ill. Something told me she would be fine.
After a few days, when she didn’t get any better and still didn’t eat, we looked into an experimental treatment for FIP. Our vet told us that this treatment has been showing “some promise” in curing FIP. But it is not FDA regulated or permitted for use by vets, and it’s only available on the black market. So there’s no way of knowing whether you’re getting what it claims to be or some knockoff. Plus, even if it is the real thing, it still has a very low success rate. Like, basically negligible. I researched it and even reached out to a group on Facebook. In my brief conversation with a representative of the group, it didn’t feel like they would be much help. They asked a bunch of questions and didn’t even mention the treatment. It felt more like a support group than a realistic solution. And our baby was starting to rapidly decline. There was no more hope.
When the girl uses the homeopathic medicine in the movie, it seems to have some positive effects. A part of me thought the kitten was going to make it, and that made me upset. I felt bad for being upset, but I couldn’t help it. For a moment, I thought this treatment would work, and the movie would turn into a commercial for this black market medicine. I got legitimately angry and worried. I felt like I was rooting for the kitten to die.
Grief is a fucked up thing, man.
Obviously, in real life I would want any cat to survive. But I couldn’t stand the thought of this fictional kitten surviving the same disease that killed our Nola.
Regardless, the medicine did not help Aeris. I was relieved, then immediately overcome with sadness. Now I desperately wanted this kitten to survive.
Seriously, grief is fucked up.
One thing we didn’t experience was the seizure. I really felt the characters’ heartache and concern and anxiety. In her final days, Nola was breathing hard, not eating, and clearly uncomfortable. We were so worried she would suffer a painful death, or something like a seizure. It was unbearable to even contemplate. Thankfully, when we brought her to the vet that final time and helped her transition, she seemed to be at peace. And unlike the couple in the movie, we had a couple days with her to say goodbye before we let her go. In some ways, I feel that made it harder; we got the extra time with her, but we knew her fate was sealed. Her imminent death was hanging over us. I’m still glad we got that extra time, though. It sucks either way, I suppose. Fuck FIP.
It was a traumatic experience and we’re still struggling with it. She was our baby, and we poured ourselves into loving and caring for her. And we felt so alone in dealing with this. We felt like the only people who had ever gone through it. So it was slightly reassuring to know that this is something that happens, and it happens to undeserving people and animals. It was not a bad dream. It was not a punishment. It was not a result of something we did wrong. It was simply a horrible disease that she most likely contracted from other kittens in the foster home that rescued her. Since we had never heard of FIP…and it’s so rare…and Nola was just a kitten…and she seemed so healthy throughout her life…it was impossible to accept. When we had to put her down, it was so hard to believe it was actually happening. But it did happen. As it happens to hundreds of other kittens and kitten parents.
It’s still fucking horrible, though.
We cremated Nola with her favorite blanket. Her ashes sit on our fireplace mantle in a small urn with one of my favorite pictures of her looking out at us. In the film, they bury Aeris at the girl’s parents’ farm. In the final scene, they are at the grave, crying and reminiscing. As the girl walks back towards the house, she sees a cat on the porch. A faint smile crosses her face. The movie ends.
Soon, we will pick up our new kitten. We are heartbroken, and we will always miss Nola. She will always be a part of us. It has been hard to even think about getting a new cat. We just want our Nola. But that’s not possible. We can’t go back. Time marches forward. Life goes on. Etc. etc. Moving forward is the only option, so we need to start a new journey with a new pet. We got a bearded dragon a month ago because we needed something to love and focus our attention on, but we weren’t ready for a cat. Puff has been great, and he’s helped us heal. Now, we are ready to love another kitten.
Well, not “read” exactly. But willing. It still hurts to think that the only reason we are getting this kitten is that we lost our baby. Na’s presence is still present, in our home and our hearts. It always will be, and we will always cherish her memory, but we can’t let the pain of her loss prevent us from being happy and loving another pet. To honor Nola and our experience with her, we are going to put that same amount of love and energy into caring for another kitten, another innocent little creature who needs us. Nola was so unique and amazing and nothing can replace her, but she showed us how much we love caring for a pet, and we want that again. We wish it was her, but it can’t be. So we have to believe that another kitten will bring a new, different-yet-equal love to our lives. This love doesn’t exist yet, so it’s hard to imagine. But our love for Nola didn’t exist before we got her, and eventually, it turned into a love that we couldn’t imagine life without.
It’s awful that this movie even had to exist, but I’m glad it does because I know that we are not alone in losing our beautiful baby to this awful disease. And after seeing what could have happened, I know that we did the right thing in letting her go before the pain really set in. We had to protect her, and we couldn’t bear her suffering any more.
I appreciate the filmmakers sharing their story. The film is based on the experience that the young man and woman in the film actually went through. As the guy said in an interview, despite her brief time with them Aeris quite literally changed their lives. He says that Aeris taught them how to love. My girlfriend and I feel similar about Nola. We had a deep love for each other before her, but she took that love to another level and showed us things about ourselves and each other that we would have never known otherwise. Her life, and her death, brought us closer together. It’s hard to explain what it was like going through this, but this film captures it well, and I’m grateful for that.
I also appreciate the vets who are upfront and honest, as difficult as that may be. I understand the urge to offer comfort and hope, but as pet owners, we deserve and need honesty more than anything. Don’t give me false hope, and don’t put an animal through pain and anguish just to make the owners feel better for a few days. As Kurt Vonnegut says, there are fates worse than death. As hard as it is to accept, sometimes death is a necessary release. We hated to let Nola go, but we are comforted by the fact that we helped to release her from her pain and transition to an eternal sleep, where she can rest peacefully in the sunbeams.
RIP Nola. RIP Aeris.
I Love You All...Class Dismissed.
