16 years
My cat started to feel unwell after the summer. As always he spent most of it outside. One of my uncles inherited my grandparents farm but they gave all the other kids a little piece of land each and we always spent there weekends and vacations. So whenever my mother stayed there for a week or two she would take the cat with her. Years ago I did that during vacations. The cat always loved it.
He had his best friend there - my uncle's cat. It was always fun to watch them walk everywhere together. They would fight, play and groom each other. They would sleep together in the attic. They both are black so it was sometimes hard to tell where one cat started and the other one ended. When they where tumbling together it looked like a strange creature with eight legs and two heads. They would follow each other recreating the deja vu moment from Matrix. But the funniest was when they defended their territory. No cat or dog dared to come to close. I saw my cat chase another cat up a tree and then sit below it waiting to attack it again (I had to take him away so the other cat could escape). He also attacked dogs even much, much larger than him. He once jumped on my uncle's dog (pointer/lab mix) head with claws out and chased him until the dog hid behind my uncle (I had to take the cat inside so he couldn't see the dog). He loved it there.
But this summer he just wanted to go home. And then he got sick. At first looked just like he was scratched by some other cat and one of the wounds got infected but he still had problem with eating even after the antibiotics took care of the infection. He lost a lot of weight but then started to gain it again after the problem with his back teeth was solved. Most of his teeth had to be removed. It happens to cats with age. Some of the teeth can even break off on their own.
So he got better for a little while. Then he got worse again and my parents noticed blood in his urine. It turned out to be bladder cancer. My dad just told me they had to put him to sleep - he was in too much pain.
He was 16.5 years old and he was with us for exactly 16 years - my brother brought him from the pound underneath his parka on a November evening. Back then we both lived with our parents. Now he has his own family and I'm on the other side of an ocean. I wish I could've been there. I wish he was here and I could pet him and he would sleep on me (he was always a very cuddly cat). So I'm sitting here at my friend's Thanksgiving dinner trying not to cry every time I see her cat.
He had his best friend there - my uncle's cat. It was always fun to watch them walk everywhere together. They would fight, play and groom each other. They would sleep together in the attic. They both are black so it was sometimes hard to tell where one cat started and the other one ended. When they where tumbling together it looked like a strange creature with eight legs and two heads. They would follow each other recreating the deja vu moment from Matrix. But the funniest was when they defended their territory. No cat or dog dared to come to close. I saw my cat chase another cat up a tree and then sit below it waiting to attack it again (I had to take him away so the other cat could escape). He also attacked dogs even much, much larger than him. He once jumped on my uncle's dog (pointer/lab mix) head with claws out and chased him until the dog hid behind my uncle (I had to take the cat inside so he couldn't see the dog). He loved it there.
But this summer he just wanted to go home. And then he got sick. At first looked just like he was scratched by some other cat and one of the wounds got infected but he still had problem with eating even after the antibiotics took care of the infection. He lost a lot of weight but then started to gain it again after the problem with his back teeth was solved. Most of his teeth had to be removed. It happens to cats with age. Some of the teeth can even break off on their own.
So he got better for a little while. Then he got worse again and my parents noticed blood in his urine. It turned out to be bladder cancer. My dad just told me they had to put him to sleep - he was in too much pain.
He was 16.5 years old and he was with us for exactly 16 years - my brother brought him from the pound underneath his parka on a November evening. Back then we both lived with our parents. Now he has his own family and I'm on the other side of an ocean. I wish I could've been there. I wish he was here and I could pet him and he would sleep on me (he was always a very cuddly cat). So I'm sitting here at my friend's Thanksgiving dinner trying not to cry every time I see her cat.