Just a tribute to my boys
Posted: Sat Nov 02, 2019 5:43 pm
I have only ever had two boys, they didn't live together, they were the same age, and I have lost them both in the last two years. They could hardly have come from more opposite backgrounds, or had more different lives, but both were incredibly sweet natured, gentle, sociable, and needed to share their homes with other cats.
Henry was a walk-in, from a house down the road. He was a 3 year old Tux boy with a black face a mass of white whiskers and an injury to his back leg and tail. He was determined to move in and resident cat Sarah was happy with that - he was her protector and defender of her garden. His people gave him their blessing to move out, understanding that their chaotic home was not what he wanted, so we had him neutered and his leg treated. He was very shy with us at first but soon became a big (very big) cuddle bug, and we figured his injury was due to an argument with a bin lorry as the sound of it would send him flying upstairs to hide. When Sarah got old and frail he treated her with so much respect, staying in the garden near her, moving over to let her eat his food if she wanted it. But not wanting to be left alone, he recruited another companion, Purdy, from his old home. We protested but to no avail, we ended up adopting her too.
The relationship ended and I moved out, heartbroken at leaving him behind but knowing he would never be happy confined indoors, and besides, he had chosen the house. I saw him regularly when I visited and for a while he was still 'my' cat - until Sarah died, one night in her sleep. Henry was distraught, he just wasn't himself for a good 8 months after that. When he did gradually come to terms with his loss, he slowly became my ex's cat, to my relief because he needed that closeness and I didn't live there any more.
In the meantime I adopted Bobby, a retired Ragdoll stud, newly neutered 8 year old and also incredibly gentle and sweet. Within weeks it became clear he couldn't be an only cat, he had always lived near the queens and missed cat company he became extremely stressed and distressed, and that is how I came to adopt Molly. She was traumatised-timid and he helped her settle, rushing to her side whenever anything scared her, gently coaxing her out of her hiding places, building her confidence and trust in me while still being protectiveover her. He would keep a watchful eye and be nearby as I slowly made friends with her. They played chase though she wouldn't tolerate the snuggling he hoped for and he couldn't handle the rough play she wanted, but it worked. He was a one-person cat though, nobody else existed for him but me. I was at least his 4th human so I guess eventually someone had to return the loyalty he gave.
A new man came with a dog. Within 3 weeks cat and dog were sharing the sofa and Bobby would welcome my OH when he came home from work with complaining demands for his cuddles. Opening his heart to one other human opened his heart to everyone and his attitude changed completely. It was wonderful to see him change like this and I am sure he was happier than he had ever been in his life.
On Friday 3rd November two years ago I went to visit my Henry and he didn't come to meet me down the garden path as he always had. He didn't come to greet me when I walked into the house. I had to call him. He came downstairs and dragged himself across the room towards me before going down in the loaf position and looking at me ... his tongue was hanging out and one side of his face swollen. He had gone out absolutely fine that morning, come home, eaten and gone upstairs. Fearing a car accident I got him to the emergency vet within 15 minutes, but it wasn't a car, it was a large mouth tumour. We could operate but these things are so invasive and his chances ... and what we would have to put him through ... He was 14 years old, it was the first time I had lost an animal so suddenly, and I was in shock. Ex didn't have a shovel so I had to leave Henry's body with the vet and we buried him on Sunday evening. As we laid his body down, a volly of fireworks went up. Henry loved fireworks, he would create hell to be let out and sit on the garden path watching them go up from next door's garden. There couldn't have been a more fitting tribute.
In the meantime Bobby had been diagnosed with the very beginnings of renal failure. As time went on he kept having episodes of diarrhoea and dehydration which at first we treated with a vitamin B injection and tuna water. They became more frequent, he no longer tolerated the wet renal food so he was on dry only and real meat treats, and then the vitamin B no longer did the trick and he would have a steroid shot. Gradually the episodes worsened and got more frequent. Early this year he lost 10% of his body weight in 6 days and was put on daily steroids. We tried cutting the dose but the symptoms started again. Daily tablets became a problem and we switched to 6 week injections. He never made it to the second one. One evening in August I thought his kidneys had failed completely and rushed him in. His temperature was 104 but the vet was sure she could bring it down, so we left him there on a drip and antibiotics for 24 hours. She was happy to send him home but within minutes he was back to the same distressed state and panting. His breathing calmed down but the time had come and the next day as I made the appointment he settled on my lap, licking my hand, purring and sleeping peacefully. The three animals and I settled on the bed for an hour or so, and then it was time to go.
In less than two years both my lovely boys are gone. In between we have also lost my brother, just three years after my dad. And my partner's brother, and three friends. It goes like that sometimes, all seems to come at once, but just getting this all out has made me realise why my heart feels quite as heavy as it does tonight, on the eve of the second anniversary of losing my angel cat. Sorry for the long ramble but it has done me good to say it out loud. Hold your loved ones close, we never know what's around the corner.
Henry was a walk-in, from a house down the road. He was a 3 year old Tux boy with a black face a mass of white whiskers and an injury to his back leg and tail. He was determined to move in and resident cat Sarah was happy with that - he was her protector and defender of her garden. His people gave him their blessing to move out, understanding that their chaotic home was not what he wanted, so we had him neutered and his leg treated. He was very shy with us at first but soon became a big (very big) cuddle bug, and we figured his injury was due to an argument with a bin lorry as the sound of it would send him flying upstairs to hide. When Sarah got old and frail he treated her with so much respect, staying in the garden near her, moving over to let her eat his food if she wanted it. But not wanting to be left alone, he recruited another companion, Purdy, from his old home. We protested but to no avail, we ended up adopting her too.
The relationship ended and I moved out, heartbroken at leaving him behind but knowing he would never be happy confined indoors, and besides, he had chosen the house. I saw him regularly when I visited and for a while he was still 'my' cat - until Sarah died, one night in her sleep. Henry was distraught, he just wasn't himself for a good 8 months after that. When he did gradually come to terms with his loss, he slowly became my ex's cat, to my relief because he needed that closeness and I didn't live there any more.
In the meantime I adopted Bobby, a retired Ragdoll stud, newly neutered 8 year old and also incredibly gentle and sweet. Within weeks it became clear he couldn't be an only cat, he had always lived near the queens and missed cat company he became extremely stressed and distressed, and that is how I came to adopt Molly. She was traumatised-timid and he helped her settle, rushing to her side whenever anything scared her, gently coaxing her out of her hiding places, building her confidence and trust in me while still being protectiveover her. He would keep a watchful eye and be nearby as I slowly made friends with her. They played chase though she wouldn't tolerate the snuggling he hoped for and he couldn't handle the rough play she wanted, but it worked. He was a one-person cat though, nobody else existed for him but me. I was at least his 4th human so I guess eventually someone had to return the loyalty he gave.
A new man came with a dog. Within 3 weeks cat and dog were sharing the sofa and Bobby would welcome my OH when he came home from work with complaining demands for his cuddles. Opening his heart to one other human opened his heart to everyone and his attitude changed completely. It was wonderful to see him change like this and I am sure he was happier than he had ever been in his life.
On Friday 3rd November two years ago I went to visit my Henry and he didn't come to meet me down the garden path as he always had. He didn't come to greet me when I walked into the house. I had to call him. He came downstairs and dragged himself across the room towards me before going down in the loaf position and looking at me ... his tongue was hanging out and one side of his face swollen. He had gone out absolutely fine that morning, come home, eaten and gone upstairs. Fearing a car accident I got him to the emergency vet within 15 minutes, but it wasn't a car, it was a large mouth tumour. We could operate but these things are so invasive and his chances ... and what we would have to put him through ... He was 14 years old, it was the first time I had lost an animal so suddenly, and I was in shock. Ex didn't have a shovel so I had to leave Henry's body with the vet and we buried him on Sunday evening. As we laid his body down, a volly of fireworks went up. Henry loved fireworks, he would create hell to be let out and sit on the garden path watching them go up from next door's garden. There couldn't have been a more fitting tribute.
In the meantime Bobby had been diagnosed with the very beginnings of renal failure. As time went on he kept having episodes of diarrhoea and dehydration which at first we treated with a vitamin B injection and tuna water. They became more frequent, he no longer tolerated the wet renal food so he was on dry only and real meat treats, and then the vitamin B no longer did the trick and he would have a steroid shot. Gradually the episodes worsened and got more frequent. Early this year he lost 10% of his body weight in 6 days and was put on daily steroids. We tried cutting the dose but the symptoms started again. Daily tablets became a problem and we switched to 6 week injections. He never made it to the second one. One evening in August I thought his kidneys had failed completely and rushed him in. His temperature was 104 but the vet was sure she could bring it down, so we left him there on a drip and antibiotics for 24 hours. She was happy to send him home but within minutes he was back to the same distressed state and panting. His breathing calmed down but the time had come and the next day as I made the appointment he settled on my lap, licking my hand, purring and sleeping peacefully. The three animals and I settled on the bed for an hour or so, and then it was time to go.
In less than two years both my lovely boys are gone. In between we have also lost my brother, just three years after my dad. And my partner's brother, and three friends. It goes like that sometimes, all seems to come at once, but just getting this all out has made me realise why my heart feels quite as heavy as it does tonight, on the eve of the second anniversary of losing my angel cat. Sorry for the long ramble but it has done me good to say it out loud. Hold your loved ones close, we never know what's around the corner.