We had to put Vincey down yesterday.
He had been slowing down for about a month but was still eating, although he couldn't eat dry food any more and the food had to be brought to him. He was staying in the same place for most of the day, but he had three or four places he liked, and he went back and forth to the litter box.
Day before yesterday, he threw up what food he ate. Then he went into the 2nd bedroom and hid under the futon. That's the last time he went anywhere under his own power.
We sat up with him for a long time and he was struggling. I slept with him and he was slightly better in the morning but we knew it was time.
He appeared in our back yard in 2013 right when we decided we had to let the six we already had inside become inside/outside. He stayed under one of my parts cars for a few weeks and would sometimes peer at us from in back of the step to the shed. We could tell something was wrong with one of his eyes, but not exactly what. One day I decided to try to feed him something. I took some ham out and sat on that shed step. He came up and I offered it, but I held it on his "bad eye" side and he accidentally bit me (hard) trying to take it. He never again would take anything from my hand. He always waited until I set it down.....until a few days ago when he very gingerly took a small piece of ham from me.
After some coaxing and leaving food closer and closer, he came in as far as the screen porch and lived there for about a month before he'd come all the way in, watching all the others go in and out. While he was out there we had a big storm and I could tell he was scared. I went out to talk to him and he eventually put his big ol' kitty head in the palm of my hand. I believe it was the next day when he finally came all the way in to the house.
After that, whenever I petted him, he almost always rooted that head into my palm. We called him "the self petting cat" because you could just hold your hand in front of him, and he would do all the work. If you stopped before he was ready, he'd tap you with his paw, and keep tapping until you obliged.
We're pretty sure he got dumped, as we've had at least 5 others that "just appeared" in the neighborhood. What we can't fathom, is who would dump such a sweet cat. On top of being sweet, he only ate dry cat food. Nothing else for 8 and a half years! He was clearly someone's cat just a week or so before he found us.
I had several conversations with him, in his own language. He had a very unique voice. We were surprised the first time he spoke and wondered if that was really him. I could mimic him about 95% and if I started, he'd usually answer, sometimes going back and forth a dozen times.
He wasn't a lap cat, but he'd sit up against you and sometimes put his forepaws on you. He would find "the curve" of your body to nestle against. Quite the sweetie for a grizzled, old one eyed cat.
I named him Vincent after the character in the 80's TV show "Beauty And The Beast" because at first glance, you might think he was a monster, but he was really a beautiful cat with a sweet personality, He never let that bad eye keep him from anything, either. He holds the record for largest animal caught in the yard. A pocket gopher. When I saw him with it I had to say out loud "what the hell is that" a half a dozen times. I finally had to look it up. The gopher did live and was released by the creek.
The past couple years were pretty rough. He survived being attacked by a hawk.
Twice. He developed a thyroid condition and survived radioactive iodine treatment (he was technically radioactive for a month), and he had to have a few teeth pulled and also developed stomatitis. I should probably also mention that when he got neutered about a month after he came in, the SPCA tested him for FIV (Feline Immuno-deficiency Virus), and he was positive. They wanted to put him down on the spot. I said "No, we'll just take him home", and we made sure no one else ate after him or got into chewing, bleeding fights with him.
Despite all that, he pulled through everything, until about a month ago. I'm not sure what finally did him in, but I suspect it was just plain old age on top of all those underlying issues. We had him for 9 years and he was no way a kitten when he arrived. Our Vet says he was likely about 15, which is a pretty good run for a cat.
He spent most of the last month beside me, on the arm of the couch. Every now and then he'd come over and sit up against me...and every now and then he'd want to root his head into the palm of my hand. We had plenty of time to reminisce, and tell each other "I love you".
We lost a good cat and a great friend yesterday.
Godspeed to you, Mr. Vincent. We'll see you on the other side.
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