Skittles the cat was 10 and a half.
We've known something was wrong for about 3 months.
About a month ago we learned he had cancer in his leg that had metastasized from somewhere else.
Skitty was the first cat I've had in 30 years and the first cat my wife has ever had.
When he arrived, he set in motion over a decade of service to feral and abandoned cats in our county. He is responsible for somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 cats having better lives either through involvement with the SPCA, other local charities or direct feeding and TNR (trap, neuter, release) of neighborhood strays/ferals. He also opened the door (literally) to most of the cats dumped in our neighborhood becoming permanent residents at our house.
Every Sunday morning before my wife would get up, Skit would sit with me while I read and had coffee. When my wife would get up, we would read the paper and Skit would sit on the Stanley Steemer ad.
This is the second cat we've lost this year. I don't know which was worse, the unexpected shock of the first one or the unknowing and then slow degradation after finding out and the torment of picking a last day.
About the only consolation is that I think we got the timing right. Any earlier and we would have missed his last good days. Any later and he would have suffered more and more.
Go run my friend. You are no longer bound to your pain.
We've known something was wrong for about 3 months.
About a month ago we learned he had cancer in his leg that had metastasized from somewhere else.
Skitty was the first cat I've had in 30 years and the first cat my wife has ever had.
When he arrived, he set in motion over a decade of service to feral and abandoned cats in our county. He is responsible for somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 cats having better lives either through involvement with the SPCA, other local charities or direct feeding and TNR (trap, neuter, release) of neighborhood strays/ferals. He also opened the door (literally) to most of the cats dumped in our neighborhood becoming permanent residents at our house.
Every Sunday morning before my wife would get up, Skit would sit with me while I read and had coffee. When my wife would get up, we would read the paper and Skit would sit on the Stanley Steemer ad.
This is the second cat we've lost this year. I don't know which was worse, the unexpected shock of the first one or the unknowing and then slow degradation after finding out and the torment of picking a last day.
About the only consolation is that I think we got the timing right. Any earlier and we would have missed his last good days. Any later and he would have suffered more and more.
Go run my friend. You are no longer bound to your pain.
