Amazing tales of survival, recovery, and medical triumphs

Gable - A Home at Last

I had just graduated from college and started my first job when I found one of the greatest "loves" of my life: my cat Gable.

Because I was living alone, I had considered adopting a cat to keep me company. One evening in November 1990, I was visiting a friend when our conversation turned to cats. She mentioned that her neighbor was looking for a new home for his cat. It seems the neighbor was away a lot and the cat had some medical problems. In addition, the cat was declawed but was practically living in the parking lot of the apartment building. The thought of any cat facing the outside world without its defenses sent me from my chair to see if the neighbor was home.

As fate would have it, he was home and he was only too glad to let me have his beautiful, one-year-old male, red classic tabby named Gable. The cat was a little thin, but I loved him on sight.
Gable and I went home together that night, taking with us some medicine, litter, cat food and a litter box. Everything was fine until Gable developed severe diarrhea a few days later. I rushed him to the veterinarian his previous owner had used, but the only advice I got was to continue giving Gable the medicine and feed him canned chicken. However, it became obvious this wasn't working after I spent several evenings holding my sick friend in my lap while keeping the lower half of his body elevated to prevent his bowels from leaking.

I decided to try a new veterinarian, who performed a battery of expensive tests. His diagnosis was that Gable's intestines were permanently damaged from the diarrhea he had suffered since he was a kitten. The only way to treat it, other than surgery, would be daily medication. I was thrilled that Gable wouldn't continue to suffer. Even more amazing, though, was that through all the tests and the poking and prodding, Gable retained his sweet disposition. The vet even commented on how he seemed determined to make the best of a bad situation. After taking his medication for five years, the decision was made to wean him off it because he had become addicted to it (it was an opium-derivative). Amazingly, his diarrhea problems had disappeared!

Nine years later, Gable still has his sweet, loving disposition and there's a lot more of him to love--he has gone from a scrawny 6 lbs. to a hefty 14 lbs. During his first checkup, the vet said the improvement was remarkable because Gable had looked like a cat with cancer when he first saw him. Since then, Gable has won second place in a pet photo contest (he lost out to a Persian).
Gable spends his days looking out the kitchen window (shown in the photo), playing with our four other cats, and nibbling on the pot of grass I grow for them. He also spends a lot of time following me around the house, meowing for me to pick him up and carry him. He also seems convinced that I am his mother, as he spends hours kneading and sucking on my shirt or blanket.

Last year, he faced another health crisis with a nasty round of vertigo. For a week, he could barely stand up without falling over. It broke my heart to watch him, but he faced it with the good grace with which he has faced his other problems, and slowly, he returned to normal. The only reminder of that ordeal now is a slight head tilt, but I think it just gives him an adorable "inquisitive" look.
I feel so fortunate to have Gable in my life. He's the most affectionate cat I've ever known, and he always makes me feel as if the only place he can find supreme happiness is curled up in my lap. He truly lights up my life.

Rhonda Brewster

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