Tag Archives: tears for drogo

Drogo, Furkids

2016 Update on the fight to cure FIP

It was about this time last year when we lost our adopted black kitten, Drogo, to FIP. At the time, info available was sparse: FIP was known to be a 100% fatal coronavirus mutation afflicting kittens and young cats with no known pathology. While some anecdotes abound on the internet about kittens surviving “dry” (non-effusive) FIP, reports seem consistent, nearly universally dire, about the chances of a cat surviving “wet” or effusive FIP–which our cat Drogo was diagnosed with.

The 2016 research material that emerged later in the year suggests a new weapon is showing promise in the fight to cure FIP. I listed the sources in my earlier post, pointing to Dr Pedersen’s preliminary research posted on the SOCKFIP.org website as well as the published paper on the PLOS Journal.

A new note has appeared on the SOCKFIP.org website with Dr. Pedersen’s closing update for 2016. In it he suggests that UC Davis and its partners are preparing to move onto Phase 2 research to focus on treatment modalities for the GC376 protease inhibitor on effusive cases of FIP.

Some key takeaways from the Phase 1 study, which I will quote below:

  1. Most disease signs are reversible with treatment:

    Based on what we have learned from our first group of cats, we know that the treatment will require a minimum of twelve weeks and will cause a rapid reversal of disease signs in most, but not all, cats.

  2. FIP-caused neurological issues are resistant to treatment; said treatment does not forestall possible development of neurological problems later:

    Cats with neurologic disease will not respond to this treatment, as the drug does not penetrate well into the brain. We also know that cats with ocular FIP will develop severe neurologic disease during or after treatment. We have also learned that cats that have had FIP for some time will often develop neurological disease while on treatment or after their initial treatment is completed.

  3. This isn’t a cure; the long-term effects of GC376 have yet to be studied:

    we still do not know whether or not we can sustain disease remission in those cats that survive the therapy and remain healthy

  4. Emphasis on the availability of said treatment, restricted to research only:

    The drug is not commercially available and cannot be purchased and must be administered under the institutional and hospital protocols of UC Davis. We understand the desperation that people feel when their cat develops such a terrible disease but our resources are limited and must be strictly focused on the goal of researching FIP what we hope is the first of many highly specific and effective antiviral drugs against FIP virus.

Given this news, I made some brief searches on the net regarding the status of FIP research, in particular, UC Davis’ collaboration with researchers at Kansas State University.

On SOCKFIP’s Facebook, they  linked to a Catster article interviewing Dr Pedersen.

To be clear, this is only the latest research using a recent treatment modality to reverse FIP. There still exists a competing treatment publicly available on a smaller scale that is reported to have limited success treating dry forms of FIP. The University of Tennessee updated their clinical trials document in 2017 promoting Polyprenyl Immunostimulant treatment. It seems the document is courting donations for Dr Legendre’s ongoing research in FIP. It is this research that is cited in the current Wikipedia article on FIP.

Winn Feline Foundation, which has donated to UC Davis, Kansas State, and University of Tennessee studies, has also contributed several grants over the course of 2016 supporting FIP research.

Morris Animal Foundation, also another donor in the FIP fight, announced research and funding in 2016.

As it’s about the time tax returns start getting filed, this post partly triggered by a review of my charitable donations for the previous year, among which is my contribution to SockFIP. I’m glad to see the ongoing effort to find a cure to FIP, including the progress made this past year.

Drogo, Furkids

There Was Something About Drogo

It’s been  2 weeks since we made the decision to end our FIP-afflicted kitty’s life. PTS, put to sleep, entered our vocabulary of life’s acronyms. While the melancholy of our sudden loss did not collapse into life-disrupting despondency like I originally feared, the stab/twinge/shock of sorrow occasionally arrives unannounced, unbidden. Whether it be during the long commute to and from home, or during some idle conversation or distraction, or maybe just flipping aimlessly through the digital photo album and resurrecting an old memory, I am suddenly seized with sadness due to the emptiness he left in our lives.

I’ve cared for and fostered many a furkid in my life. All were bundles of joy and unique personalities. But there were a handful of them that entered my life that struck me as “special”, extraordinary, and unforgettable. Utterly incomparable and regrettably, lamentably, mortal; these were the souls who showed more compassion, devotion, presence, and dare I say, more humanity than any animal or human I’ve known. And, of course, as with everything and everyone you come to love so dearly, they will inevitably break your heart.

It began when we first beheld him that day at the adoption fair, he already displayed a receptiveness, openness to human contact. I will never forget the day my man picked him up and cradled him on his shoulder: Dutch (as he was named at the time) looked like he belonged there. We walked away from the fair, from the store, thinking it was just a passing fancy–weren’t they all adorably cute at that age? How better to snag the unwary hearts of potential fur-parents!

Within an hour we were back to adopt Drogo and Conan, and suddenly, irrevocably, they were our kids. We had incremented our family by two within the span of an afternoon. In the weeks and months that followed, I became absorbed with parenthood, (even though we’d soon adopt another furkid). Furbabies are different, requiring more rigorous attention and therefore filling up our memories with more interactions with them. During these periods of learning and growth, Drogo and Conan’s personalities became evident markers of who they would become as adults.

Already Drogo distinguished himself for his curiosity, courage, initiative and affability. He was the explorer and the lover all in one fuzzy bundle. He possessed pleasant communication skills, an ease with new situations, demonstrating an assertiveness that his kitten-brother lacked. He was the first out of safe haven, to explore his new surrounds, to meet his canine and feline siblings, and engage in new discoveries. He was an opportunistic rogue, daring to scale forbidden counters in search of hidden treats or toys, or deftly robbing the dog bowls for canine kibble. He tested the limits of his world almost calculatingly, with a patience and intuitiveness beyond his years. And after all his (mis)adventuring was done, he’d come to us for a cuddle and comfort,  and seemed delighted with our company above all else.

He was a good conversationalist, a champion purring machine, and a fan of tummy rubs. He excelled at fetching and recovery, so perfectly did he place the retrieved toy in my hand or lap, that I couldn’t imagine how he learned such a thing–certainly I never trained him. He bonded with us in such a short time; he followed me around when I readied for work in the mornings; he waited for me at the door when I got home at night. He seemed accepting of my after-work decompression routine, he’d patiently wait for me after workouts, then settled into my lap as I wrapped up my evening.

It was this sweet temper, this agreeableness, maybe some form of worship that obviously endeared him to us, and made his loss even more profound. He will be quite simply be sorely missed.