I've been real busy lately. I've been spending most of my time at my dad's place after work. I've barely had a moment to myself. It's really lame, but sometimes it's fully necessary.
My dad was taking care of my ailing 18 year old cat. I got her when I was ten and we basically grew up together. She had arthritis and a kidney problem but she was otherwise very healthy and happy until the last month or two. She started losing a lot of weight and was brought to the vet. My dad tried a number of different vets and none of them could find anything wrong with her. She wasn't eating, but not because "she knew it was her time" or any shit like that. She was always excited to have treats and food. Every time she tried to eat, she'd get the morsel in her mouth, but then she'd shake her head and spit out the food. She'd repeat this until she gave up and laid back down somewhere. I think there was a problem deeper down her throat than the vets could see without a biopsy. They think the same. She's already very old and I doubt she would have survived such an operation, let alone the work required to fix the problem IF they found one.
My dad needed to force-feeding her with a syringe. She couldn't eat or drink on her own. She was put to sleep today.
Like I said, I grew up with her. I picked her out when I was 10. She was a rambunctious and curious kitten. I picked her out because she was always wandering around away from the group of kittens I was shown. She seemed like the type that would be always getting in trouble. She was awesome. Very appropriately we named her Razzmataz. We called her Razz. She came to me every morning when I was still living with my dad. We understood each other well. She was always affectionate and social when she liked the company. When she didn't she knew how to let you know. She'd take a swipe or a quick bite. If you pulled away, you were fine. She had to be tough, too. We had a Bouvier for nine years who always thought he was a puppy. She trained him in the types of things that were appropriate with her. They got along well. That's not to say he didn't get a couple scratches on the nose. She loved tasty treats and became a large comfortable cat who liked to lay on the biggest pillows or best comforters. She was happy to cuddle and sleep in mine or my mother's arms.
I know we did everything for her that we could. What happened today was the best course of action for her if not for me. I will miss her terribly. I doubt I'll be able to fill her place in my heart.
Razz (1988-2006)
My dad was taking care of my ailing 18 year old cat. I got her when I was ten and we basically grew up together. She had arthritis and a kidney problem but she was otherwise very healthy and happy until the last month or two. She started losing a lot of weight and was brought to the vet. My dad tried a number of different vets and none of them could find anything wrong with her. She wasn't eating, but not because "she knew it was her time" or any shit like that. She was always excited to have treats and food. Every time she tried to eat, she'd get the morsel in her mouth, but then she'd shake her head and spit out the food. She'd repeat this until she gave up and laid back down somewhere. I think there was a problem deeper down her throat than the vets could see without a biopsy. They think the same. She's already very old and I doubt she would have survived such an operation, let alone the work required to fix the problem IF they found one.
My dad needed to force-feeding her with a syringe. She couldn't eat or drink on her own. She was put to sleep today.
Like I said, I grew up with her. I picked her out when I was 10. She was a rambunctious and curious kitten. I picked her out because she was always wandering around away from the group of kittens I was shown. She seemed like the type that would be always getting in trouble. She was awesome. Very appropriately we named her Razzmataz. We called her Razz. She came to me every morning when I was still living with my dad. We understood each other well. She was always affectionate and social when she liked the company. When she didn't she knew how to let you know. She'd take a swipe or a quick bite. If you pulled away, you were fine. She had to be tough, too. We had a Bouvier for nine years who always thought he was a puppy. She trained him in the types of things that were appropriate with her. They got along well. That's not to say he didn't get a couple scratches on the nose. She loved tasty treats and became a large comfortable cat who liked to lay on the biggest pillows or best comforters. She was happy to cuddle and sleep in mine or my mother's arms.
I know we did everything for her that we could. What happened today was the best course of action for her if not for me. I will miss her terribly. I doubt I'll be able to fill her place in my heart.
Razz (1988-2006)
1988 - 2006!! that's a good run!