sad.
while talking to my mom yesterday, she informed that oscar, the little orange one-eyed squeak machine, had died.
he was a cat i found on the street in casper, having just been hit by a car. my gf at the time and i decided to catch him, take him and have him put to sleep. so after chasing him up and down alleys, under dumpsters, and finally grabbing him by the back legs whilst he was trying to climb into the engine compartment of an SUV, i wrapped the flailing hissing biting bloddy mess in Gina's coat, and we called the emergency late net vet line. it turned out to be Gina's usual vet, so we headed there, she knocked him out and examined him. i will never forget the image of her holding him up by his scruff, wet, bloody, and with his eye out of the socket, and her saying "other than his eye the little guys gonna be just fine". (i named him oscar cause he was A)grouchy, and B)found under a trash can).
so $900 or so dollars later, we moved him into the downstairs bathroom of my house, where Gina fed him twice a day from a spoon. eventually, she got to where she could scritch him, then full on pet him. eventually i was granted the same privilege, to a lesser extent. when i moved to denver a short time later, he became a barn cat at my mums house. she tried to bring him inside for several winters, but he was content out roaming around, hangin out with the Big Grey Barn Cat. it was always a joy to be out in my mom's yard and have him come trucking along, sitting a few feet away from me, and looking up at me with his one eye. and of course, hearing his little squeak of a meow.
when i was home at thanksgiving, he had finally submitted to living indoors, but he had quit eating and was emaciated. apparently he had caught a cold, had a sore throat, and couldn't eat. the vet ran tests, and said he had immune problems, and should stay inside. while i was home, the meds helped his throat and we found a mix of milk and beef baby food he liked, and he was really bouncing back. i spent most of the weekend with him on my lap (the most affection i'd ever been allowed to give him).
but sadly, his immune problems mean he caught something else, and then something else after that. and there is only so much suffering the poor lil guy should have to take, so mom had him put down.
its very sad.. i was very attached to the little guy, but he did get a hell of an extension on life. 9 lives indeed. sleep well little squeak machine.
he was a cat i found on the street in casper, having just been hit by a car. my gf at the time and i decided to catch him, take him and have him put to sleep. so after chasing him up and down alleys, under dumpsters, and finally grabbing him by the back legs whilst he was trying to climb into the engine compartment of an SUV, i wrapped the flailing hissing biting bloddy mess in Gina's coat, and we called the emergency late net vet line. it turned out to be Gina's usual vet, so we headed there, she knocked him out and examined him. i will never forget the image of her holding him up by his scruff, wet, bloody, and with his eye out of the socket, and her saying "other than his eye the little guys gonna be just fine". (i named him oscar cause he was A)grouchy, and B)found under a trash can).
so $900 or so dollars later, we moved him into the downstairs bathroom of my house, where Gina fed him twice a day from a spoon. eventually, she got to where she could scritch him, then full on pet him. eventually i was granted the same privilege, to a lesser extent. when i moved to denver a short time later, he became a barn cat at my mums house. she tried to bring him inside for several winters, but he was content out roaming around, hangin out with the Big Grey Barn Cat. it was always a joy to be out in my mom's yard and have him come trucking along, sitting a few feet away from me, and looking up at me with his one eye. and of course, hearing his little squeak of a meow.
when i was home at thanksgiving, he had finally submitted to living indoors, but he had quit eating and was emaciated. apparently he had caught a cold, had a sore throat, and couldn't eat. the vet ran tests, and said he had immune problems, and should stay inside. while i was home, the meds helped his throat and we found a mix of milk and beef baby food he liked, and he was really bouncing back. i spent most of the weekend with him on my lap (the most affection i'd ever been allowed to give him).
but sadly, his immune problems mean he caught something else, and then something else after that. and there is only so much suffering the poor lil guy should have to take, so mom had him put down.
its very sad.. i was very attached to the little guy, but he did get a hell of an extension on life. 9 lives indeed. sleep well little squeak machine.