Here Kitty Kitty

Booger Bear

Here Kitty Kitty

1992 - March 24, 2007

Today was the day. It got so bad that he couldn't drink water anymore. I spent 20 minutes last night squirting water into his mouth with a syringe while he drank what he could and slobbered the rest away. Before this he must have gone 2 or 3 days without a drink and without me realizing he could no longer lick the water from his dish.

The other day I was washing the cars. He wanted to be with me, so he sat there as the overspray covered him. He didn't move. He sat in the driveway as waves of soapy water came washing down all around him and soaked him. He didn't budge. You could see in his eyes that he was scared. He was dying of dehydration and yet had water all around him.

My wife said he stank to high heaven. His mouth and throat were infected. His cancer was rotting. The Little Girl wouldn't go near him anymore. His eyes were black with fear and he'd follow us everywhere we went in the house. He'd meow all night, waking us up over and over. I'd try to give him food and water and he'd just sit and stare at it. It wasn't until last night that I found a way to get him a drink. I'd tried the syringe before, but he just thought I was trying to give him medicine so he didn't want it. Last night I just kept squirting his mouth until he finally realized I was just giving him water. This morning I did one better. I put him in the tub and turned the cold water on just enough to make a constant stream. Then I squirted water from the syringe until he started drinking. At first he thought I was going to give him another bath, but once he calmed down he was fine. I led him closer and closer to the water until he started drinking from the faucet. I left him in there drinking for 15 or 20 minutes. When he came out, he was soaked, but he wasn't thirsty anymore.

And then it was time to go to the vet.

She said it was bad. He'd lost more weight since last week when he was first diagnosed. He's lost a lot, nearly half his normal bodyweight. He had a fever. He's infected. His tongue had been pushed to the side of his mouth so that it was sticking out the side and he could barely use it. He was miserable. He wasn't going to get better, and he might just die next week from dehydration or starvation. I figured he wasn't thirsty, he wasn't scared, and he wasn't alone, so it would be best if he went now.

It was quick. From the time they injected until the moment he just plopped down was only a second. I was surprised. In an instant he was gone. It's a weird feeling. I've known him for as long as I've known My Wife. We weren't even dating yet when we found him. And we found him together. He's always been around. And now I have to go outside and bury him.
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