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R.I.P. Orange Bastard
The moderating team, and possibly people who have me on Facebook, already know that my big orange cat, who we affectionately referred to as "Orange Bastard" has been sick since around the end of summer. First, he had fleas really bad. He was so bit up that he'd leave blood where he sat. We got that under control, but then he started losing weight. When I took him for his vet appointment, he had lost 4 lbs. Last year, he was 14 lbs. This year, he was down to 10. 
The vet diagnosed him with hyperthyroidism, and after running some tests to confirm it, sent us home with some medicine, that I had to give him twice a day. At first, it seemed to be helping. He was becoming active again, starting to eat again, even eating people food, which he never really cared for much before. When I took him back for a follow-up, he had gained some of his weight back.
But then a few weeks ago, he took a sudden turn for the worse. My wife noticed a wound on his leg that looked infected -- possibly from one of the other cats, and we ended up rushing him to an animal hospital in the middle of the night. They put him on an antibiotic, and he really didn't like have two doses of medicine being forced on him twice a day.
He started eating less and less, and a couple days ago he stopped eating altogether. And then today, he wouldn't even drink any water. My wife even wondered if we should just take him back to the vet and have him put down, but as bad as he looked, he didn't seem to be in any pain. I never had to put a pet down, and I really didn't want to this time either.
He was asleep on a towel that my wife left for him at the top of the steps before she left for work. She kept asking me how he was, and my answer was always "About the same." I remember looking at him and petting him and thinking, "If he makes it to Thanksgiving I'll be surprised." I also told him that if he had to go, I'd miss him, but I'd understand.
I was going to do a computer job for one of my friends, and I was waiting for my son to finish using my car. I had the parts in my hand that I needed and was heading out to the car, when we decided to check on the cat one more time. My son reached down and touched him, then looked up at me, and I asked, "Is he gone?" Somehow I already knew the answer before he said it.
I thought I was prepared for it, and that I wasn't going to cry. Then I had to tell my wife when she got home from work. My son helped me bury him, and for awhile he seemed to be holding up better than anyone else. Before we covered him up, my wife put one of her old hair ties in with him, because when he was healthy, he loved to carry them around in his mouth. We talked about the good times we had with him, and she and I went inside. My son wanted some time alone, and stayed out awhile longer. She and I went thru all the pics I have on the computer of him, and laughed and cried.
I think the saddest part was when our little tan cat walked up to him and found that he was dead. Out of all the cats, I'm sure he misses him the most. That one was his buddy, and he was always giving him baths. I'm sure he's going to miss that as much as I'm going to miss him stealing the ornaments off the tree next Christmas.
I called my friend and told her the computer job would have to wait until tomorrow. I didn't want to leave my wife here alone with what happened, and my heart wouldn't have been into fixing her computer. She understood, and was more worried about me than anything.
Rest in peace, Orange Bastard. You will be missed.
The vet diagnosed him with hyperthyroidism, and after running some tests to confirm it, sent us home with some medicine, that I had to give him twice a day. At first, it seemed to be helping. He was becoming active again, starting to eat again, even eating people food, which he never really cared for much before. When I took him back for a follow-up, he had gained some of his weight back.
But then a few weeks ago, he took a sudden turn for the worse. My wife noticed a wound on his leg that looked infected -- possibly from one of the other cats, and we ended up rushing him to an animal hospital in the middle of the night. They put him on an antibiotic, and he really didn't like have two doses of medicine being forced on him twice a day.
He started eating less and less, and a couple days ago he stopped eating altogether. And then today, he wouldn't even drink any water. My wife even wondered if we should just take him back to the vet and have him put down, but as bad as he looked, he didn't seem to be in any pain. I never had to put a pet down, and I really didn't want to this time either.
He was asleep on a towel that my wife left for him at the top of the steps before she left for work. She kept asking me how he was, and my answer was always "About the same." I remember looking at him and petting him and thinking, "If he makes it to Thanksgiving I'll be surprised." I also told him that if he had to go, I'd miss him, but I'd understand.
I was going to do a computer job for one of my friends, and I was waiting for my son to finish using my car. I had the parts in my hand that I needed and was heading out to the car, when we decided to check on the cat one more time. My son reached down and touched him, then looked up at me, and I asked, "Is he gone?" Somehow I already knew the answer before he said it.
I thought I was prepared for it, and that I wasn't going to cry. Then I had to tell my wife when she got home from work. My son helped me bury him, and for awhile he seemed to be holding up better than anyone else. Before we covered him up, my wife put one of her old hair ties in with him, because when he was healthy, he loved to carry them around in his mouth. We talked about the good times we had with him, and she and I went inside. My son wanted some time alone, and stayed out awhile longer. She and I went thru all the pics I have on the computer of him, and laughed and cried.
I think the saddest part was when our little tan cat walked up to him and found that he was dead. Out of all the cats, I'm sure he misses him the most. That one was his buddy, and he was always giving him baths. I'm sure he's going to miss that as much as I'm going to miss him stealing the ornaments off the tree next Christmas.
I called my friend and told her the computer job would have to wait until tomorrow. I didn't want to leave my wife here alone with what happened, and my heart wouldn't have been into fixing her computer. She understood, and was more worried about me than anything.
Rest in peace, Orange Bastard. You will be missed.
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But, he developed fluid in his lungs that year, and I couldn't put him through such a painful surgery...which may, or may not have removed it. I didn't want to see him suffer. That was one of the hardest things I had to do.
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