I'll miss you Socrates
Well. Today didn't go like I had planned.
I had to put down my cat Socrates today. (That's pronounced "So-crates" like in the Bill and Ted movie, not "So-cra-tes" like the philosopher)
It sucked. A Lot.
He was 17 1/2 years old. I've been with him longer than my husband - including the "shacking-up" years. I'm goning to try to post his picture here:
This was about 2 years ago. Since then He'd lost a lot of weight. went from 13# to 7-8#. His front teeth - not the fangs- were down to the gums. would forget I had just given him a new can of food if he was distracted and refuse to eat any more until I opened a new can. He became Cranky Old Man Cat. He was, after all, >85 in cat years. I understood the arthritis, the not jumping up on the bed anymore 'cuz he just couldn't, the finicky eating. I even called him my Alzheimer's Kitty. And the gas...PHEW!
But I couldn't put him down for just that. That's just being an old man. Think about it. Forgetful, arthritic and gassy - sound like any nursing home residents to you?? But he continued to drink out of the toilet (eww, i know) and menace the dog next door. How could I put him to sleep for just being old? I couldn't. And fought with the rest of my family about it for months.
But today when I came home.....well it was bad.
It was time.
He couldn't stand. At all. He had thrown up and was lying in it, covered all down one side of him. I bathed him and as I was drying him off he messed himself. Twice. and made no attemp to move away before or after it happened. His breathing was a little raspy. He could barely lifthis head when he was trying to groom his front paws after I bathed him.
I had to take him in.
Oh, and I had to explain to the not-yet 5 yrs old Boy that Socrates was very sick and it was time for him to go to kitty Heaven.
He took it surprisingly well. "Will he get to see Poppa?" he asked. Poppa is what we called my dad, and when I said yes, all seemed to be okay.
I wish I could bounce back like that.