Christmas morning sixteen years ago we found our cat on the 13th hole of the golf course we lived on. We of course named him Bogey. He's all black, male, short haired, and big (22 lbs at one point). Pretty much the exact opposite of every cat we ever had (female, long haired, beautiful markings, and small). He had been thrown out of a car window and had road rash on his legs and side. He is by far the most lovable cat we ever had. He is the love of our lives and my best friend. Four years ago he was diagnosed with a kidney stone (it's larger than what's found in a human); we thought we had lost him then - but with a special diet he's been fine. Over the last few weeks he has started losing weight. The vet says his kidneys are only working at 30% or less. Now he's pretty much stopped eating, and you can tell he's in some pain. It's very close to the time to do the hardest thing any pet owner has to do. It's just so hard to let them go - and to decide when it's time. We know we only have a few days left with him....
Today we did the hardest thing any pet owner has to do - we put our big boy down. We had him 16 years, and it does not seem like it was enough time. We are both devastated. Our home feels so empty with out him.Thank You. I guess we all know the day we take in a pet this day is coming. Our other cat lasted 21 years; we know that was not normal. We held on to her too long though, we wanted her to make it through Christmas - her favorite time of year. Now we are haunted by that and don't want to make the same mistake again. For a cay Bogey's size 16 years is pretty good, I know the last four years were a gift. He used up a few of his 9 lives with the last bout of kidney problems. Our vet is still holding out hope - so we are giving him appetite enhancer and nausea medicine hoping he will regain his will to eat. The vet thinks the renal food will help if we can get him to eat it. Right now we are hand feeding him. We still have a week or so I guess. Hoping for a miracle.
Please accept my condolences on the imminent death of your vacuum cleaner. And throw out all of your dark clothing.Thanks for sharing your stories, and sorry for your losses. I haven't lost a pet since I was a kid, but I know it's difficult.
We just adopted a kitten last week. Her name is Kemba. My three kids love her (and of course so do I). She's a fluffball. And she just might break your ankles.
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She looks a little like my dear Calvin. At least when she was young she looked like that. Got her, I think, around the same time as Uconn's 1999 'ship. My mom knew I wanted a dog but forgot I was going to name it Calvin, so she came home with a girl....Nope, still naming her Calvin, to complement my cat Hobbes! Most of the family called her Calvina. My cat (not pictured) named Hobbes was very good friends with Calvin(a), naturally and Calvin(a) was so sweet with Hobbes. The orange cat in the pic is named Jack, another very nice, funny guy, both very good friends too, often napping together.View attachment 45409
I am so sorry travel man very sad and I know it hurts like we can’t imagine when it happens. All the others who have lost pets too hate hearing about it.
The pic above is my Amber who will be 16 next month. I got that from my wife and son on father’s day, they know it was better than the golf balls and shoes I got and it says it all it’s so perfect. I’m afraid of the day I will be on here for this reason because I will be an absolute mess. I cherish every second we have left as they bring so much joy to our lives that others can’t.
Sorry again and prayers to all who have lost their best friends!
Ditto on my father. Never saw him cry as hard as he did when we lost our (his) Kerry Blue Terrier when I was in HS.. He absolutely adored Brandy we all did and was heartbroken like I’ve never seen him before. They are special aren’t they?We had a Springer Spaniel growing up named Sam. We also lived near a golf course on which I learned to play. I would take Sam out for walks in the early evenings along the tree line along a par 5. Stopping, I would pretend to throw a ball into the woods. Sam would bound into them with wild abandon then began searching for that ball that never was. Eventually you would here a snort then Sam would come running out of the woods with a golf ball in his mouth. He would drop it at your feet and after picking it up and looking at it, there was never a mark on it unless it was cut by a club. We would walk up and back like that all summer and I never needed to buy a ball all season. Coming home we would walk down the basement through the bulkhead doors and I would give him a bath and some extra treats before dinner. He also loved running and jumping off any dock and go for a swim. The day he died I came home from a summer job to find my father sitting on the milk crate crying like a baby. Never saw him cry like that for as long as I knew him.
Man, that is a big cat.Pet haters are funny.
Anyway, we had a cat (Scooter) that died in 2017. When our son was born, he freaked out the the point that we needed to use some glade plug-in like device that emitted pheromones to calm him down. Once he got past that initial shock, he was the kids' constant companion, particularly my daughter, whom he would snuggle and lick (like a dog). He would climb into her crib to sleep with her when she was a baby, and sought her out whenever she was upset.
About 8 months before he died, my daughter (then 6 years old) woke up screaming at about 1:30 in the morning, having had a nightmare and wanting me to lie down in the bed with her to calm her down. I told her that I would but wanted to go get a drink of water first. Got a drink, made a quick pit stop in the bathroom, and came back to find that Scooter had already taken care of things:
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handle/post!My brag: well, it's not the cover of the Rolling Stone, but in 1995 my special kitty Willow made the cover of CATS magazine. (RIP 1994-2011). She was such a sweetheart. Her littermate was Augie, big tough guy but a baby at heart. They were Turkish Vans. So beautiful and really really great cats. I miss them soooo much.
I’m very sorry to hear this, but it feels like you made the right call.I am so sorry to read of these losses. May they all rest in peace. Beautiful, beautiful pictures. Pets truly become part of one's family. Though I hate that they have such a comparatively short lifespan, I'd like to think that the Almighty did this on purpose, because there are so many other homeless pets out there that need love, too.
About a month ago my all-black cat, Captain Jack, was euthanized. He was 12 years old and was a rescue cat, a true "rogue, thief, and pirate." He actually seemed to like it when he was addressed as "Captain"; he would purr and look very pleased that he was being given respect. I used to sing "Happy Jack" to him, which he also seemed to like (despite my lack of vocal skills).
Jack had some sort of cancer; the diagnosis was not precise, but given his symptoms, the vet thought it was cancer of the intestinal wall. He was gradually losing interest in food (not at all like him) and was barfing. I thought it was hairballs at first, but when his weight loss became noticeable I took him to the vet. This was on a Wednesday. The vet did a few tests. His kidney and liver functions were fine; his heart and lungs were fine - but x-rays made his abdomen look opaque. It turned out that he had quite a bit of fluid in there, which apparently made him feel full. The vet drained off the liquid. However, she told me that in cases like this, the prognosis was not good. I took him home, and he did eat normally that night. But then Thursday and Friday he ate less and less. And on Friday it was as though the poor thing suddenly became incontinent - all over my house. I lost track of how many spots of diarrhea I had to clean up after counting 45. I called the vet, who advised to make him as comfortable as possible. On Saturday he was no better. The vet said she could give him meds that would stimulate his appetite, but it wasn't a cure. He wasn't going to get better. He stayed curled up in a corner, wanting to be by himself, not caring if he himself was dirty with diarrhea spots. So I put Jackie in his cat carrier, took him to each room in my house, let him sniff noses with my other 3 cats, and took him to the vet. He's not suffering anymore. It was the right choice. I miss him terribly, but I'm so glad that he's no longer suffering.