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fleetfootmikeAnne's having one of our cats put to sleep as I type.
Moonlight came to us by accident, quite literally in 1996. Anne was working, and he was brought in as a road traffic accident. As befits an RTA, she cleaned the cat up, put it in a cage for observation...
Around 5pm that day he started having breathing difficulties: X-ray revealed a ruptured diaphragm, and the RSPCA, after ages trying to contact someone who was authorized to say 'we'll pay', refused to pay for anything bar euthanasia. Anne said various unprintable things, and fixed him herself and brought him home, where he's been ever since.
He's never been a lap cat - he weighed about 15 lbs, not fat, just size - and he preferred to sit next to me or Anne on the sofa any chance he got. In fact, until last year, Anne was convinced he was a she, until she found evidence to the contrary while disentangling his fur. Fur that was never quite black, but this rich, deep chestnut in the right light.
He's been breathing hard for the last few weeks: Anne eventually decided to take him in to work and get one of the other vets to have him checked over: x-rays revealed lots of fluid in his chest, and a blood test revealed FIV (Feline Immunodeficiency Virus) and FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis), the former making the latter much more unpleasant.
I shall miss him: of the three, he was probably the nearest to being 'my cat'.
Moonlight came to us by accident, quite literally in 1996. Anne was working, and he was brought in as a road traffic accident. As befits an RTA, she cleaned the cat up, put it in a cage for observation...
Around 5pm that day he started having breathing difficulties: X-ray revealed a ruptured diaphragm, and the RSPCA, after ages trying to contact someone who was authorized to say 'we'll pay', refused to pay for anything bar euthanasia. Anne said various unprintable things, and fixed him herself and brought him home, where he's been ever since.
He's never been a lap cat - he weighed about 15 lbs, not fat, just size - and he preferred to sit next to me or Anne on the sofa any chance he got. In fact, until last year, Anne was convinced he was a she, until she found evidence to the contrary while disentangling his fur. Fur that was never quite black, but this rich, deep chestnut in the right light.
He's been breathing hard for the last few weeks: Anne eventually decided to take him in to work and get one of the other vets to have him checked over: x-rays revealed lots of fluid in his chest, and a blood test revealed FIV (Feline Immunodeficiency Virus) and FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis), the former making the latter much more unpleasant.
I shall miss him: of the three, he was probably the nearest to being 'my cat'.
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Date: 2004-08-31 03:46 pm (UTC)