Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2011 15:26:01 GMT -5
It seems the forum has been hit hard the past two weeks. I have to say, its been rough for me too. My boyfriend lost his beloved, strange, special needs cat Socks in mid March. That was rough enough.
When I went home over the weekend, my mom had the day I was traveling had to take our cat Shoebed to be put to sleep.
We always had barn cats after the horses--they were the remnants of two litters from the early days. A few got homes with families, but the rest stayed with us and formed a tight knit group. Shoebed was a runt, half brother to Shoeby, a grand black and white cat with no sternum that passed after a snake bite we imagine protecting the kittens (he was a mothering sort). Shoeby was the only cat that would jump in the shower with you, so his loss was great. Shoebed (at the time Shoebette because we thought he was a girl), was so tiny and mom so heartbroken that she brought him inside.
He was a great little cat. He had some trouble eating and some strange litterbox habits, but loved to lounge around the house. He loved my mom and followed her everywhere. He was always always jealous of my dad. He lived for years with Molly, who my uncle dropped off one day, and when she died of old age, he was not the same. He'd run through the house meowing and cry at skunks outside because they looked like his friend. He clung to my mom more.
Recently, if you know the story of our orange and white kitties George and Timbit, Timbit came down with an aweful urinary tract infection. For the third time in her life my parents didn't think she'd make it and brought her inside, asking Paulie's (aka my) permission to use his Superpet cage to make sure she didn't wander and stress herself. She got better, but they knew she couldn't go outside. Shoebed and Timbit had always been visiting buddies (she'd rush in the house and they'd head butt, then go separate ways for attention).
Then Shoebed had what looked to be a seizure. He seemed to be fine and then suddenly stopped eating or drinking. Timbit would lay with him and keep him company and Timmy doesn't like sleeping with other cats. Mom tried force feeding him and meds, but none of it helped. He reached a point where he hid and didn't want to be touched, and she knew it was time.
Mom was worried it was because of Timmy, but Shoebed was pretty old. I personally believe he waited until Timmy, my mom, and dad started to bond before letting it show that he was ready to cross the bridge. He loved Mom so much, he wouldn't want her to be left alone.
Now he is back at the bridge with his beloved friend Molly. She is probably boxing his ears as I write this, but he doesn't care. There's was a strange and special bond. They may be having Christmas right now--making up for all the missed presents. The holiday was never the same for him after he lost her and he'd always go looking for Molly under the tree skirt. They are together again, healthy and happy.
When I went home over the weekend, my mom had the day I was traveling had to take our cat Shoebed to be put to sleep.
We always had barn cats after the horses--they were the remnants of two litters from the early days. A few got homes with families, but the rest stayed with us and formed a tight knit group. Shoebed was a runt, half brother to Shoeby, a grand black and white cat with no sternum that passed after a snake bite we imagine protecting the kittens (he was a mothering sort). Shoeby was the only cat that would jump in the shower with you, so his loss was great. Shoebed (at the time Shoebette because we thought he was a girl), was so tiny and mom so heartbroken that she brought him inside.
He was a great little cat. He had some trouble eating and some strange litterbox habits, but loved to lounge around the house. He loved my mom and followed her everywhere. He was always always jealous of my dad. He lived for years with Molly, who my uncle dropped off one day, and when she died of old age, he was not the same. He'd run through the house meowing and cry at skunks outside because they looked like his friend. He clung to my mom more.
Recently, if you know the story of our orange and white kitties George and Timbit, Timbit came down with an aweful urinary tract infection. For the third time in her life my parents didn't think she'd make it and brought her inside, asking Paulie's (aka my) permission to use his Superpet cage to make sure she didn't wander and stress herself. She got better, but they knew she couldn't go outside. Shoebed and Timbit had always been visiting buddies (she'd rush in the house and they'd head butt, then go separate ways for attention).
Then Shoebed had what looked to be a seizure. He seemed to be fine and then suddenly stopped eating or drinking. Timbit would lay with him and keep him company and Timmy doesn't like sleeping with other cats. Mom tried force feeding him and meds, but none of it helped. He reached a point where he hid and didn't want to be touched, and she knew it was time.
Mom was worried it was because of Timmy, but Shoebed was pretty old. I personally believe he waited until Timmy, my mom, and dad started to bond before letting it show that he was ready to cross the bridge. He loved Mom so much, he wouldn't want her to be left alone.
Now he is back at the bridge with his beloved friend Molly. She is probably boxing his ears as I write this, but he doesn't care. There's was a strange and special bond. They may be having Christmas right now--making up for all the missed presents. The holiday was never the same for him after he lost her and he'd always go looking for Molly under the tree skirt. They are together again, healthy and happy.
