We had to put the older cat to sleep last night. He was 17, and I’d had him since he was just 8 weeks old. I had him my entire adult life; I got him (for free, at a yard sale) on my last day of high school. Tried to bring him home in a box, but he insisted on being held and cuddled against my shoulder. He was a sweetie and a lover, who gradually morphed into a grumpy old man. He was always friendly to everyone, and won over several cat-haters, but he was first and foremost a mama’s boy. And he was gorgeous; everyone commented on it. He was my handsome kitty boyfriend, and I told him that all the time. When I was fighting depression, and felt like the world wouldn’t notice my absence, he was there to remind me that I was loved and needed very much by at least one fuzzy orange guy.
He’d been through a few serious health crises in his life, and more than once, I thought I might lose him. Yet he always seemed to come through good as new or better. This last one, though, got the best of him. He had a tumor in his nasal passages, and had surgery on it in December. He recovered wonderfully, but it grew back much faster than expected. He didn’t seem too bothered by it, and we were going to just let it run its course. Then, it started pressing on his brain, and causing seizures. Steroids seemed to help for a week or so, but last night, out of the blue, he had two in a row, within an hour of each other.
So we gave him some salmon, and took him to the vet. They put a catheter in to deliver the injections, and that really pissed him off, but we sat with him until he settled down, me cuddling him, and my husband giving him more salmon and smooches on the head. Then, they gave him the drugs, and in just a few seconds, he was gone.
Man, I’m going to miss that little guy. I would post pictures, but I can’t bring myself to look at them just yet. There are a couple of links in this other thread, at the end of this first post.
I’ll always love you, Beeb. You were one hell of a cat.