Goodbye Nebulous. I love you. I will miss you.

Update: 9th of January, 2011. Recieved a letter from the Vet we took Nebulous to.

She died today, Thursday the 6th of January 2011. I had to put her down because of a hyperthyroid condition and cardiomyopathy; she spent her last day gasping for breath, unable even to miaow, disoriented and perhaps in growing pain. Süheyla watched over her, the last day; she gave her the best care. But Nebulous was unable to walk, her left hind leg failing from a blood clot that separated from her heart; she wouldn't eat and couldn't drink at the end. She had been struggling for a week. I took her to the Glenvale Vet on Tuesday when I noticed her go into wheezing fits any time she was picked up. (And she was so skinny, her ribs poking out, too clearly delineated.) Rohan - the veterinarian - gave me two sets of tablets for her, but within two days she would not even eat.

On Tuesday, Rohan had a grave manner, soft spoken; it was the first time I had come to him, being the local vet in a new neighbourhood. He explained that he heard fluid in her lungs and her heart beat at twice the expected rate for a cat. He was 99% sure her heart was "too big" but that there was no way to be sure without performing exactly the kind of invasive tests that might kill her anyway - especially given my description of how she reacted last time we tried to deal with an ingrown claw.

Today I came home from work ready for a swim in the pool, but it soon became obvious that Nebulous was at the end. She could not walk, but lay on her side without seeming to know where she was. She was breathing through her mouth in short, sharp gasps, and Süheyla explained that she had seen Nebulous twist suddenly during the day; thereafter being unable to use her left hind leg. At first I hoped she would make it through the night at least. I petted her, and realised that it was a death watch. I rang Rohan - and he stayed open long enough for me to bring Nebulous in.

Now I can only remember you Nebulous; my companion for so long. She was with me in primary school, high school, university; she lived in my first house away from Mum and Dad and my first house with my new family, Süheyla and Talya.

Nebulous showed up in late November or early December of 1984. I met a school chum Tim, who was carrying around a box with two kittens; a beautiful white one and an ugly grey one. I wanted the white one but needed permission first. I went home and asked Mum: "ok, but Dad's the sticking point. Tell you what, bring home the kitten and we will make it Dad's birthday present!" I found Tim again, with the asking price of $5, but he only had the ugly grey one left. Oh well. I took her home and lay on Mum and Dad's bed with her nestled on my chest. I remember almost falling asleep until - what, she just piddled on me!

When I was away, studying on campus at Monash Uni, Churchill, Nebulous would fret until I returned each weekend. As if in punishment she would occasionally vomit on my keyboard at home and - when I returned each weekend - would give me the cold shoulder for an hour or so before letting me pet her again.

When I first moved into a house with Süheyla, she had a beautiful pair of dogs: a German Shepherd named Shiela who would bark whenever we kissed, and a dopey but oh so cute Terrier named Foxy (who was so unbalanced that she would fall over any time she shook herself). I brought Nebulous over after a few days to see if she was OK with the whole situation; as soon as I let her loose in the lounge room, Shiela leapt after her (in my mind all I heard was "LUNCH!") and Nebulous (who I swear heard the same thing) raced up the curtains and taught me just how well cats can ignore gravity when they need to. Nebulous went back to Mum's place after that, even though Süheyla swore "Shiela was only playing - she is good with cats!"

She broke her arm in 2009 and - despite having an unwieldy cast - would still jump up and down from my bed. Indominable; I thought... hoped... she would live forever.

Nebulous was not a playful cat. She liked to sit in odd places; drink water from plants; give and get snuggles. She would lick my arm clean when needed, and lay on my chest purring and dribbling, the perfect massage device for the soul.

Goodbye Nebulous. I love you. I will miss you.

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• Blog posts about Nebulous.
• Tumblr posts about Nebulous.
• Picasa album of photos of Nebulous.

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Update: 9th of January, 2011. Recieved this letter from the Vet we took Nebulous to. Form letter or not, the thought and effort is deeply appreciated.

Dear Robert,

On behalf of the nurses and myself we wish to convey to you, our sincere sympathy over your loss of "Nebulous".

We realise what a difficult time this must be losing a wonderful friend and we can only express to you our deepest regret that you can no longer enjoy her company.

Our thoughts are with you.

Yours sincerely,
Dr M.R. Nicholls
B.V.Sc.(Hons)

When Nebulous (my 25 year old cat) broke her arm

(Click to view larger image.)This happened on a very stressful weekend, Saturday August 15th 2009. It was the beginning of a fortnight full of bad news.

On that Saturday, Süheyla was out working and I was at home, trying to clean up because the owners of our house were coming on the Sunday. It was such a windy day; I was taking paper rubbish out and Nebulous tried to follow me. The wind slammed the door on her arm and she screeched.


(Click to view larger image.)When I turned around, she was twitching her arm, trying to lick it. I swore loudly and started to panic. It quickly became obvious from Neb's movement that it was serious. Talya was there and calmed me down. We rang the emergency vet and took a taxi there.

The X-rays clearly showed both bones in her foreleg snapped. The vet seemed such a hard woman. She was outlining the options (including putting her down) and kept reiterating that Neb was so old (25) and could die from the shock, pain, anaesthetic, infection.. and that her bones might not heal at all. After a while I asked her "Are you suggesting we put Nebulous down?" I was feeling pressured to make an awful decision. At this, the vet huffed up and became visibly annoyed. "I am not suggesting that - just trying to make sure you understand there are so many risks". She didn't seem so hard after that.


(Click to view larger image.)They put a heavy splint on her leg and wrapped it in a light synthetic substance that set a bit like plaster. Six weeks she would have it on before her leg was to be reviewed.

For six weeks after breaking her arm, Nebulous walked around with this heavy splint. It was so bulky and heavy that she literally dragged her arm between her back legs as she walked.


Can you just
pat me now? Please?
(Click to view larger image.)Somehow it didn't stop her from climbing up (and down) from our bed and couch. This is one tough cat! She even ventured outside a couple of times. I was horrified when I came home one day to find her peering up at me from the porch.

I could tell she was uncomfortable though - she couldn't even keep it clear when she went to the litter. Frequently we cleaned her splint as best we could. I tried out various things to wrap around it: a plastic bag fastened with rubber bands or sticky tape didn't work; glad wrap was a really terrible idea - try getting a cat to sit still while you do that! Eventually we settled on socks, changed almost every day. Süheyla's suggestion (which came too late) was to use a condom! Not sure how I was going to explain that to the vet (or chemist).

She needed lots of pats during this time..


(Click to view larger image.)After the six weeks were up, the vet removed the splint and X-rayed her leg again. The bones were still broken - no healing whatsoever! I felt so bad for her, trying to imagine what her options were.

Amputation.. putting her down.. or put a metal plate in her arm to hold the bones together. This is what we did.


(Click to view larger image.)Her leg was so tender when she first came home. She was purring a lot and I couldn't bear to touch her for fear of bumping her leg. It freaks me out that her leg is still broken, just held together.

Nebulous tried to sleep without disturbing her still broken arm, after the vet put a plate in to hold the bones together.


(Click to view larger image.)This was a very uncomfortable week for her and I was (still am) cringing each time I watch her walk on that broken leg

She seems much better now. She walks ok, no running anymore. And she still climbs up and down from the bed, but very slowly and carefully. If she sees me on the bed, she will miaow patiently until I pick her up and drape her over my chest, where she can pur and, well, dribble.

I am glad she can still do that.

Update. Friday 5th of August, 2010. This is what happened when we took Nebulous to the vet to have an ingrown nail cut on her bad arm: Paid the Cost to be the Boss.

Cleo by Helen Brown

ISBN-10: 1741759072. Publisher: Arena

*This review contains spoilers*

I really enjoyed this book. It grabbed me from the first moment with a picture of an ultra-cute kitteh on the front (Basement cat never looked so cute), and the blurb promising a sad tale with a thread of joy. Just what I am looking for this year for some reason. Thanks to Mum for buying it for me.

Well, it was indeed a sad tale, with a joyful thread; it is in fact is Helen Brown's true story. I shared her rendered heart when Sam, her eldest boy, was struck down. I felt the warmth grow with each new antic of Cleo. I also felt increasingly annoyed each time she let loose her inner voice whining about some aspect of the budding relationship she was developing with Phillip.

It is strange that Cleo is and is not the main character of this book. She grows up with the family, and "teaches" them how to focus on the positive. Right up until the end, when she is a 24 year old queen cat!

I will always hold this book dear to my heart because of the honesty Helen showed in this telling. The most striking moment in the whole book for me is this paragraph in the first 50 pages:

It was no easier for Steve. A few days after the accident I awoke under a waterfall of his tears. He'd never cried in front of me before. I should have reached out and embraced him then, but I was half-awake, unprepared. Distraught, momentarily confused. I simply asked him to stop. I didn't imagine the request would be taken literally and he'd never express sorrow in front of me again.

This paragraph alone describes what has become of the relationship with her first husband while they are both wallowing in sorrow. I was angry at Helen here: she *broke* her man; but on a deeper level I knew it was just the skin of a bubble bursting. It is a portentous moment of stark narrative clarity in a sea of misery that can only be told in hindsight.

A wonderful book - it makes me want to write the story of my cat, Nebulous - a grand 26 years old and still kickin (purring)!

See Helen Brown's website, upon which you can read the Cleo Launch Speech, Melbourne Australia, September 2009 and a page of letters people have written to Helen.