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May 26, 2008 06:36

Yesterday, Sheila woke me by crying. I was in bed upstairs, she was downstairs on the couch with Bandit. (Who had the day before taken another turn for the worse.

I ran downstairs, Bandit was still alive, but had peed all over herself on the couch.

The vet, of course, was closed. A 24 hour emergency clinic would want to hook her up to an IV and keep her for observation until Tuesday. We weren't about to let that happen to her.

So we sat with her and petted her all day long, gave her a subcutaneous IV, fed her (I had liquefied her cat food with her medicines a few days ago and was feeding her with a syringe.), gave her water (also syringe) and she just laid there, occasionally looking up and responding when petted.

I went to bed last night upstairs, Sheila again downstairs to be with her.

About 1 AM, Bandit got up and walked over to Sheila. Sheila helped her onto her lap and they went to sleep together.

About 6:30 this morning, Sheila called me downstairs. Bandit had started convulsing and was not breathing. I held her in my arms and she died.

She was a damned great cat. She loved people, but hated all other pets (just ask Bootsy and Dude), she thought she WAS a person. She always slept on either Sheila or my (or years ago, Sheila's mothers) hip at night. She has 20 damned good, very healthy years. She had a very bad, sickly last ten days. It was a shame to watch  this happen to a cat so full of life, but I understand that as George Harrison once so aptly put it: "All things must pass, all things must pass away."

Thank you Bandit for being a wonderful pet, friend, companion to me for the last 12.5 years.

Sheila's mom left us her cat when she died, now, Bandit's gone home to be with the fine lady who called her, "Mama".

Rest in peace, my little girl.

sick, bandit, death

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