No more conversations with my cat – 100

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This is Chester.

For a few days, we have been monitoring Chester.

He hasn’t been talkative, in fact, I have been mistaking his usual taciturn nature in the mornings for what it really was.

A total lack of interest in anything.

He did not come down in the morning. OK, so, sometimes he cracks a hissy fit and totally ignores me.

But, this is different.

After a few days he returns and gives me the benefit of his wisdom.

Today, he hasn’t shown at all, so I went looking for him.

He was in his usual hiding spot, lying down.   I give him a pat, he opes his eyes and looks at me.  This is a cat who is not well.

I pick him up, and there’s no immediate fight back. He doesn’t normally like to be carried anywhere. Today, he’s putty in my hands.

I call the vet. She can fit him in now if I run.  I’m running.

He goes into his carry basket without a fight.  OK, now I know something is definitely wrong.

 

There’s not a sound between home and the clinic. Usually, he screams the place down, trying to get him into the carrier, and then makes as much noise as possible when driving.

Today there is nothing, not even a whimper.

The vet comes out. She has been seeing him for the last ten years and they are well acquainted.

We see her every six months. Without fail, for shots and stuff.

I take him out of the carrier and he lies down on the metal bench.

She looks at him, then picks him up.

She weighs him.

He’s lost two kilos, and that’s a lot for a cat.

I can see it’s bad news.

It is.

He’s 19 years old, long past the average life expectancy.

To keep him alive now would be inhumane. He has, apparently, reached the end of his life, and has lost the desire to eat or to do anything. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

She says, it just happens.

It will be quick and it will be painless.

I can see in his eyes that it’s what he wants.

I said goodbye, went outside and sat in the car, and cried.

There’s going to be a lot more tears before this day is out.

6 thoughts on “No more conversations with my cat – 100

  1. Oh gosh. So sad. Our cat was 19 when she had to be put down. She had a stroke and couldn’t stand anymore. I cried and cried because I had just had a baby and couldn’t go with her. I was in rough shape after the delivery. I had promised I’d be with her because we had another cat who was put down and I didn’t stay with him and always felt so guilty. It’s going to be a grief that will come at the oddest times too and you’ll feel stupid to cry over a cat but it is not stupid. He was family and it’s good to cry. Hang in there.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m so sorry, Charles. I missed this post. I remember that Chester had gone to hide a little while ago. Maybe that was the start of it. It’s heart-breaking to lose a much-loved furry family member. But he obviously had a long and good life with you.

    Liked by 1 person

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