Help Bebo

Bebo is my best friend. I've literally never loved a living being more than I love Bebo, and I swear that everyone who meets him loves him more than me. He's just that good of a boy.

[Bebo wrapped around my leg, in his nightly position at my side.]

A couple of days ago, I noticed him not acting like himself. He was keeping to himself, which was odd in itself, as I think the best way to describe him is "persistently affectionate".  He was laying down in his water bowl, hiding behind things. I stayed up all night with him, sensing that something was wrong, and by morning he was completely limp and unable to move.

I called a vet, who told me not to wait for their next opening that day, but to take him to an emergency clinic immediately. I borrowed some money from my roommate and took him in. By that point he wasn't even opening his eyes, but at the very least I could still see that his little chest was moving.

[Bebo, being an absolute derp while trying to groom himself.]

The emergency vet was on lockdown due to Covid-19, so I was instructed to leave him in a kennel inside the door. I sobbed as I lifted his limp little body out of the carry and placed him inside, afraid that I was never going to see him again and wouldn't be allowed to say goodbye (something that has happened far too many times in my life).

I was quickly informed that he had a urethral obstruction, and they were worried that he was about to go into cardiac arrest. They stabilized him and admitted him for the next 48 hours. I understood that going into this that it would cost a large sum of money, but the only other option was euthanasia (he's only 5-years-old), and my roommate loved him so much that he couldn't watch him go either. This cost us $2000.

[Bebo giving me his healing purrs after a major surgery I had a couple of years ago.]

When I was able to take him home a few days later (yesterday, as of writing this), he seemed very out of it, but was returning to his normal self, forcefully headbutting and laying by my side and purring. His next dose of pain meds wasn't due until 4 in the morning, but I didn't want him to go any amount of time in more pain, so I stayed up with him yet again.

He was leaking a bit, and straining to go to the bathroom still, and come morning, I found him sleeping in his litter box. I removed him, only to find him laying down in another litter box only a few minutes later. I called again, and the vet told me that I should bring him back in.

[Bebo being his weird little self, sitting on top of a head register.]

He was blocked again, and without removal, built up toxins can essentially shut down his kidneys, and after celebrating him being home safe and sound, I wasn't ready to let him go again so soon.

I am now in the position where I don't have another $2000, and it is likely that this will continue on without a surgery that is estimated to cost $3500. I was able to borrow more money from my roommate, putting us both in a difficult position to pay the bills, and it's unlikely that I could either afford another obstruction or the procedure required to prevent it.

[Bebo loving just so hard!]

He's going to be at the vet for another couple of days, and I'm going to call around for a consult for the surgery, but I have absolutely no ability to pay for this, as I am currently unemployed, as my summer internship fell through due to Covid-19, and I am left without a job. My only hope is to gather enough resources from those who love Bebo as well, or feel our pain. He is all that I have, and he's been at my side since the day I brought him home.

Most people talk about cats being jerks, but the worst anyone has ever gotten from Bebo is too violent of a head-bump in his demands for love. He is a sweet, beautiful boy, and I want him to live.