When a cat chooses you: A FeLV survival story
I had this running joke I was saying to my woman when she was asking for a cat: I’d only get a cat when we moved into a castle. The kind with towers, a drawbridge, questionable heating. It wasn’t about cats, really. it was about delay, about not wanting something soft to rearrange my hours. And then one day, without warning, a small creature jumped into my arms and meowed. You see, three years ago, we adopted a young cat that had been abandoned by neighbours and left on a harsh Polish winter. He was starving and clearly would not survive this cold, being a house cat. So, in an hour or so, he jumped on my knees and I called him Kolya. Then came the test results. FeLV . Kocia białaczka (PL) . The page you don’t want to open when googling late at night. Three years of no sympomes passed and, in a few days, he bacame extremely ill. There isn’t one path through it. No manual. Just fragments from forums, vet advice, gut feeling, and what’s left of common sense. We started with...
