He was the first pet I chose from a shelter. It was 1985 and I chose this little grey kitten, I named him Tuffy. My mom regrets not taking his sister too. I don't remember much about him, but I do know he was more my mom's cat. During the last years of his life, we bonded more because I was older. For example, I would tell him I was going out to get a take out fish dinner and that I would be right back...he would wait. I came back and gave him some fish. One night, he was walking funny; dragging his back legs behind him...it was very strange. I don't know if my grandfather hit him in the back to make him paralyzed or something, I have no idea. We brought him to the vet soon after and they couldn't figure out how he got like that. A few days later, my mother and I decided to put him to sleep because he wasn't getting any better. We were both there when he passed. Needless to say we were both crying when we said good bye. We regret it now, but we left his body there.
Emma, one of my 3 cats passed away today. I am still riding the emotional roller coaster. yesterday, I found out had cancer: a tumor underneath her tongue. I spent one last night alone with her last night. I gave her all the food she wanted yesterday and this morning, not that she could really chew it, but I offered it all up for her. I tried to make the next available appointment to euthanize her at my regular vet office, but they were not available until Monday. I didn't want her to suffer any longer, so I took Emma into a vet clinic this morning that would do it now. The vet had a horrible bedside manner from the beginning. I told her the story, and she insisted on giving Emma a tranquilizer (later I found out to be ketamine) because she thought Emma was "acting up". I told her I would hold Emma and didn't care if she bit or scratched me. The vet still insisted. I held Emma and tried to comfort her the best I could. I talked to her throughout this short time, saying "Mommy's here, I love you always. You will be out of your pain soon. I love you so much baby girl". Needless to say, I was beside myself with tears. Before I knew it, she was lifeless. I held her for a few minutes alone in the exam room. I said good bye even though I knew her spirit was still there. I covered her in the towel I brought her in. I left her body there. The next day, I realized the horrific trauma I just endured. I called the vet office and I insisted on picking up Emma's body. About an hour later, I arrived. They had placed her body in a cardboard coffin and handed it to me. I was in the waiting room and I started to cry again. I cried all the way home, but I was so comforted to know she was with me and not with the careless people at the vet office. I preceded to make arrangements to have her privately cremated at the MSPCA. Her remains are with me now, always.
Alex is starting to pee blood everywhere all of a sudden and isn't eating or drinking like he usually is. We had moved (again) recently so I thought the stress from that was effecting him and our other cat Lucy. I thought it was effecting Alex more because he is older of the two and has been through a lot in his life already being a shelter cat. I had adopted him in November 2001 along with Emma. That was a great day! I brought Alex home first because Emma had to stay behind and be spayed. Anyways, I did bring Alex to the vet. She said he had a UTI and was dehydrated. She gave him a shot of some sort of fluid and I brought him home. He seemed to be better for a few days, he wasn't peeing blood and he started eating again. During all this, I looked around and saw a plastic bag has been chewed up. I don't know when Alex did this. Soon after, he started with the same symptoms, only this time his physical well being was much worse. He was peeing on himself, stayed in the same corner on the floor, and could not clean himself or eat. I brought him back again, they took x rays this time and they still said it was just a UTI. I did mention I think Alex chewed on a plastic bag, and chewed a lot and ended up swallowing it. The vet said this should pass and she wasn't as concerned about that. She prescribed him antibiotic tablets that I would have to give him. Again, I brought him home. That night, his health declined drastically. I don't know how he did it but he made it up the stairs to my bedroom closet. His eyes were glazed over and he was moaning. I was up all night trying to take care of him. I knew it was time. As soon as I knew the clinic was open, I picked up his soiled, lifeless body and brought him. I told them on the phone that I need to come in now to put Alex to sleep. The same vet asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this, and I said definitely yes. I made it a point that I didn't want her to give Alex ketamine, after what happened with Emma, I could NOT take the chance. I slouched over Alex on the table, whispering in his ear "Mommy loves you always, you will be out of pain soon, I will see you up in heaven baby boy". The vet tech said I shouldn't put my face near his. I knew Alex wouldn't do anything, he was much too weak, and even if he did, I didn't care. He was gone within seconds. I felt terrible but at the same time, a huge sense of relief. They wrapped his body up and placed him a box. I brought him home immediately and put him in the fridge. The next week, I brought him to the MSPCA to be privately cremated. Again, like Emma, he is with me always.
I had moved out of state with my ex-boyfriend and my mother got remarried. After Emma and Alex passing 7 months apart, Lucy was the only one left. Like I said, I had moved, but also my mother got remarried and ended up moving in with him. All of this I'm sure was a drastic change not only for my mom but for Lucy as well. We had Lucy since she was a kitten, Summer 2002. She was a Maine Coon, a gorgeous kitty. At first my mother didn't want another cat, but as soon as she saw her, she fell in love of course. Emma was very jealous but tolerated her, Alex acted more like a big brother. After already moving twice, my mother moved into her new husbands three family house in downtown Boston, making it the third move. One morning, my mother came home after shopping. She said hi to Lucy like she always does. My mother went into the kitchen and she heard Lucy let out a huge meow like she had never heard before. She went over to Lucy, who was lying on the couch. She nudged her and said "Lucy? Lucy?"...she was not breathing. My mother called me up about an hour later and told me the news, I was crying my eyes out. She brought her to the MSPCA to be privately cremated.