I once had a cat living with me name of Deckerd. He was an all black long haired neutered male, with a pugnacious attitude. He would stalk and attack all other cats no matter what the circumstances, usually getting thrashed for his troubles as his size was in no way comparable to his demeanor. In Deckerd's youth he had been a nice cat and had gotten along well with other cats, but an unfortunate tragedy had soured him on life in general and cats in particular. That, however is another story.

At the time of his miracles he was about 5 years old, much past his fighting prime. And in fact it is his fighting that got him into this story. One day it was noticed that his face had been injured, in fact bitten. The resulting infection was rather unpleasant to say the least, and he was taken to the local vet for the usual treatment for abscesses, in his case anesthesia and good clean up of the wound. This had occurred several times before and no problems were anticipated.

I dropped him off in the morning and went to work, which was only a block from where I worked. That afternoon I got a call from the veterinarian who sadly informed me that my cat had died during the operation. I was understandably surprised and asked what had happened. The vet replied that he had stopped breathing after the anesthetic was applied. He was revived but had quickly stopped breathing again. The doctor and assistants had revived him a second time, but shortly thereafter he died again and after heroic efforts the vet decided he was a goner and she had called me to break the sad news.

Just before the doctor rung off and as we were making arrangements to pick up his body, the doctor said "Wait just a second, someone is yelling at me." After a moments muffled silence the doctor said "Well, the assistant says she got him breathing again, perhaps you should come over here."

Of course I wasted no time and rushed right over to the vet's office. Upon arrival I went to my the poor kitty. He was laying on a table with and IV tube in his little leg and a tube in his throat to breath (sort of a miniature iron lung.) He was looking very flaccid but even unconscious he was definitely alive. The vet wasn't very confident about his chances, as he had been revived 3 times she thought there was a very good chance that he had suffered permanent brain damage.

Well, I decided if he wanted to live that bad he should have a chance, so that night he was transported to a 24 hour care facility where his condition could be monitored. By evening he was just barely conscious and unable to move. I left instructions that he should not be revived in the event his life signs failed again, by this time the anesthetic had worn off and if his breathing stopped again it would be a sure sign that he had suffered terrible brain damage.

In the morning however he looked a little better and he was transported back to the original vet. He spent the next five days at the vets slowly recovering his strength. I went by to visit him whenever I could and despite the fact that he couldn't walk or see he seemed to recognize me and he gave every indication of wanting to stick around.

After this time he was brought home. He could only stand with the most total feebleness, and was completely blind, but his happiness at being in familiar surroundings was incredibly heartwarming to see. While he was supposed to be kept indoors, nonetheless he insisted on going outside and painfully made his way to his favorite tree, where he sat down with a look of feline happiness on his face. I was worried about him but kept an eye on him out the window. After a few hours he disappeared, but I shortly found him laying in the side of the yard in the tall weeds and grass. He had fallen over and was laying there with all four feet sticking in the air looking very puzzled. I uprighted him and he went back to his tree.

Over the weeks that followed his condition slowly improved. He walked better and better and eventually regained essentially all of his coordination. After some time his eyesight recovered though not without a lot of misjudgments during the recovery period.

And the most remarkable thing of all is that his attitude towards other cats appears to have permanently changed, now he likes them! My theory is that since he couldn't see them while he was blind, he more or less decided they didn't exist. Or possibly he is just happy to be still alive.