My cat suddenly couldn't walk… the cause was hypothermia at 35 degrees! The day her life was miraculously saved

What can a cat owner do if their beloved pet suddenly develops "hypothermia" at home? On December 21, just before Christmas, I found myself waiting for my cat Gigi at the veterinary clinic, searching online for any information I could find.

However, I couldn't find the information I was looking for, so I decided, "If that's the case, I have no choice but to share this experience," and took up my pen. Thank you, Poponeko, for allowing me to write this while my memories are still fresh. I am grateful to you for giving me a space to share these raw, firsthand experiences.

I hesitated to go to the vet because the cause of the illness was unknown

First of all, most of the photos in this article were not taken on the day of the incident. Because the situation was so urgent, I didn't have the luxury of taking pictures. I apologize for not being able to show you the specific condition in photos.

On December 21, I went for a massage in the afternoon, hoping to relieve some of my fatigue. In the morning, all my cats were doing well; it was such an ordinary day that I didn't even think to call it "normal."

After the massage, I stopped by the veterinary clinic to pick up Gigi's chronic medication and headed home. Afterward, I mixed her medicine into some "Churu" treats as usual, and then we had an early Christmas party. I gave the cats a special meal mixed with various kinds of wet food.

That was when I suddenly thought Gigi seemed off. "Huh? She usually comes running for wet food, but she's not here."

Gigi has a quiet personality, but she always trots over when it's mealtime. She especially loves wet food, and she usually follows me around when I'm bringing her plate.

Yet, she just sat down flat in front of the bowl where I'd served the "Churu" and wouldn't move.

Maybe she didn't notice the food? Gigi is a bit slow on the uptake, so she sometimes "falls behind" like that. I picked her up and carried her to the food, saying, "It's right here." However, she took only about two licks of the wet food and then sat still again.

Gigi had previously dislocated her leg after falling from a cat step.

One week since the dislocation. She's starting to be able to walk much faster. Above all, I'm really happy that she's proactively trying to do things.
She still drags her leg, but let's heal it slowly and carefully.
Walking, eating, using the litter box, drinking water. Every single one of these actions is precious. pic.twitter.com/nuT0qUxfNd

— Yua | Writer🖊 (@yunc24291) December 4, 2021

So, thinking, "Maybe she dislocated it again," I lifted her up and tried to make her walk several times to check, but sure enough, after taking only one or two steps, she would sit down on the spot.

Veterinarian's diligent response reveals "hypothermia"

But she didn't seem to be in pain, and since she was able to walk over when eating "Churu," it didn't seem like a dislocation. She had been sneezing the day before, so maybe she was just feeling sluggish from a cold?

Going to the clinic is stressful, so I thought about waiting it out for one day. I placed Gigi on my chest while I lay down, and when I touched her paw pads, I realized they were as cold as ice.

Oh... could she be cold...? Now that I felt her body, it didn't seem as warm as usual.

Feeling anxious, I covered Gigi, who was resting on my chest, with a blanket to warm her up. To see if she had the strength to resist, I extended one of her claws. Gigi absolutely hates having her nails clipped, so when I do this, she usually pulls her paw back with a "What are you doing?!" look, but that day she just went limp...

"Oh, this is much worse than I imagined. I have to go to the hospital," I thought.

My partner offered to drive us, considering how hard it would be for me to make two trips to the vet in one day. Even in the car, Gigi didn't purr as she usually does. She was so quiet it made me anxious just having her there.

At the clinic, when I explained there was a possibility of a dislocation, the veterinarian let Gigi loose in the exam room to see if she could walk. Since it was an unfamiliar place, Gigi was agitated and walked around, even jumping onto a chair.

"See, she can walk," I thought with relief, but the vet looked grave. "There must be a reason she wasn't able to walk," he said, and when he took her temperature, it was 35 degrees Celsius.

A healthy cat's body temperature is around 40 degrees Celsius. Gigi was suffering from hypothermia. Looking back, I am so grateful for the vet's judgment, who didn't just send us home with a "She can walk, she's fine." If we had gone home then, Gigi probably wouldn't be alive.

Tears as I prepared for the "end" due to hypothermia...

After that, we performed blood tests and an ultrasound, and it was diagnosed that she had something resembling a mass in her abdomen. She had ascites (fluid buildup), and her blood pressure had dropped. That day, Gigi was admitted to the hospital. She spent the night on an IV in an oxygen chamber.

Before she was admitted, the vet told me something I hadn't expected: "I'm not sure she'll make it through the night." She had been so energetic in the morning; why...? I cried in the exam room, thinking that if I had known it would come to this, I would have held her more while I was working yesterday...

After the admission procedures were finished, I was happy that the vet kindly asked if I wanted to visit her, but it was painful because I felt that being asked meant I really had to prepare for the worst.

Seeing a grown woman cupping her cat's cheeks with both hands in an oxygen chamber and saying "I love you" and "Let's go home again" must have looked incredibly heartbreaking to those around me. But I'm glad I was able to honestly express the love I wanted to say at that moment.

My partner, who came to the hospital with me, also touched Gigi and whispered, "Hang in there," while crying. Since this was his first time going to a vet clinic and it ended in such a situation, he said, "Maybe this was meant to be. I'm glad we could get her to the hospital, and I just hope she can come home even one more time."

In Gigi's case, the hypothermia was caused by an internal abnormality. Since indoor-only cats often have their temperature controlled, I think it's easy to overlook when your cat is suffering from hypothermia. On the other hand, early detection and treatment of hypothermia are essential.

I realized that to lead to smooth treatment, it is important to understand what is "normal" for your cat.

It is also crucial to find a vet clinic that doesn't just settle for "She can't walk, but there's no issue with her nerves, so she's fine."

If you notice something wrong—like your cat suddenly unable to walk, failing to react to things they usually dislike (like the reaction to nail clipping), having cold paw pads or ears, or not feeling a gentle warmth when you touch them—I hope you will find a veterinary clinic that will perform detailed tests until you are satisfied (and do so quickly).

Also, when there is hypothermia, your first instinct might be "I have to warm them up!" but doing so too rapidly can be dangerous. So it is important not to try to handle it all by yourself, but rather wrap them in a towel and take them to the vet quickly. It's much safer to rely on the proper professionals, and you won't have any regrets later.

The fundamental treatment isn't finished yet, but the fact that Gigi is here by my side now is nothing short of a miracle.

(These are some fresh, previously unpublished photos.)

I want to see her at home again. I want to hold her tight. I am so happy that the prayer I made that day, forgetting even to sleep, has been answered.

This incident made me realize once again that she is not just a "cat," but a member of my "family."

If this experience can serve as helpful information for someone, there is nothing better. May the irreplaceable lives of other people's cats continue to thrive.