.
Goodbye to a Wonderful Friend

Unfortunately, the illness that befell our eighteen year old cat was not simply a minor reaction to his insulin. In my mind, I knew this on Wednesday evening, but I tried to help him with those techniques. It was simply that he was at such an advanced age, and having been diabetic for seven years (nearly eight years), that his body had become worn out.

On Thursday I knew that things were bad when he could not jump onto the couch to lay with me as he has done nearly every evening since he was young. I picked him up last night and positioned him so he could lay there as he always had. I stroked his cheeks, and scratched his chest just like always. It took almost 10 minutes, but even in his weakened condition he grew comfortable enough to purr very quietly. Until Wednesday, he had a purr of contentment that was enormous and could be heard clear across the room. His great size and rangy frame was now thin and his muscles had grown weak. He laid there, against my chest, seemingly comfortable enough until I went to bed.

On Friday (today), it was ever more apparent that the end was near. He had great difficulty walking, and would fall over onto his side after only a few steps. I laid there on the floor with him, holding him close to me and petting him and scratching his cheeks. He was no longer able to offer any sort of purr, but I could sense he was glad I was near. I laid with him for three hours, and he grew weaker and weaker still. He no longer seemed aware of my presence as I pet him. Tears started to well from my eyes.

I picked up his limp body, his breathing very shallow, wrapped him in a large, soft bath towel and placed him into the pet carrier. The drive to the veterinarian was horrible. The sky was a dark grey and a mix of sleet and snow made visibility poor. The tears that were now a torrent from my eyes further obscured my vision and dampened my beard and moustache. My own quiet sobs were the only sounds to be heard.

As I walked in with him to the veterinarian's office, I was crying and grimacing, attempting to regain some sort of composure, but to no avail. I told the receptionist what needed to be done, and she escorted me to one of the small rooms used by the veterinarian for proceedures. She closed the door behind me and I took him out and laid him on the examination table, the towel between him and the hard, cold stainless-steel countertop. I stroked his sides and petted his arms, which were now quite cold. He did not move at first, but after a minute or so, he briefly raised his head perhaps half and inch off the towel and looked at me more aware than he had been for over an hour. The energy it took for him to do this was enormous and after that brief moment, his head went limp and the awareness was once again gone. He laid there breathing very shallow breaths while we waited for the veterinarian to enter.

The door opened and the vet and his assistant came in. They carried a syringe of a pink fluid (pentobarbital or metafane, I suspect) and an animal shaver. In a matter of moments, they had shaved the fur away from his left front forearm and were set to give the injection. Through this whole peroceedure, I had tears streaming off my face and into my lap, my beard and moustache wet and unable to absorb any of the additional tears. I was able to stay fairly quiet with my sobs, so as to not further disturb their work. Then the injection was administered. It took only a few moments for the minimial amount of life left in him to be exstinguished. They left me alone with him afterwards.

I would not have guessed that I coulc still further have even more tears stream from my eyes. After they closed the door, I let my pent up emotion loosen a bit and deep, rough sobs eminated from the very pit of my soul. I stayed with his body for roughly 20 more minutes, stroking his fur, feeling his body grow cold each passing moment.

I then left quietly and paid the bill to the veterinarian for his services. They will cremate his body.

Goodbye my loving friend. I shall not find such unselfish love as you gave to me again. You were a gift to me and to my family and we are all deeply sad at your passing, but we also would not have traded anything for the wonderful gift of your companionship.

PipeTobacco