....Being an animal lover and a cat person makes me susceptable to becoming attached to a cat or dog and that leads to terrible sadness and grief when they die.
I had an orange tabby tom that I had raised since kittenhood...when he first came to us I kept him in the business garage as a mouser....that didn't last long as he figured out the food came from the house and that was where he wanted to be. He proved to be both an exceptional mouser and a good house companion too. Neat, few accidents and lovable up to a point but more friendly than really pettable/huggable. He had amazing facial expressions, and having had a flock of cats, that is saying something. He was the most facially expressive cat I have ever seen.
But with attachment comes the burden that one day you will have to bury your pal. Cancer ate him from a robust 11 pound big, strong tomcat to a 6 lb waif losing control of himself and refusing to eat. More below.
The irony of both him and myself having cancer is not lost on me.
Our vet in Syracuse did and exceptional job of attempting to help him, and though costly, it was worth it for awhile, but finally all he did was drink water, lose weight, and turn to furry skin and bones. He attracted fleas and though we did a lot to keep him free of infestation, the bugs seemed to know he had become an easy mark.
The last days were pitiful, with extreme weakness, inability to meow normally, lameness in the hindquarters, failing kidneys, and refusal to eat even with appetite stimulants, and finally inability to control his bodily temperature thus he needed a bear hugger all the time...I couldn't stand to see this anymore.
Today, my Orange tabby died at only age 14 of cancer. He went under the needle fighting to move all the way to the point where the first shot put him to sleep. He was born in February of 1998, and he lasted to 2/16/12, having a comfortable and safe life. A girlfriend of my son brought him to us with the name "Peaches." But around here, he was always known simply as "Puss."
When you get attached, the grief can be severe. But I know he is better off out of this life than suffering even one more day with cancer destroying him so savagely. So if I have been away for a long time, I have to say I have been a little busy trying to help a friend. And now, I write his eulogy.
To the pootie crowd, please don't mourn for Puss or me, but instead give all the support you can to the ASPCA. They do good work. Adopt a cat or dog if you can and treat them well.
Please excuse my grief, especially in this crazy time of politically suicidal Republicans. But sometimes sharing is good.
thanks and good night.