Well, I love cats. So much so, that I brought 2 of them with me
from Germany. It cost me a few bucks, but they were worth every penny of it.
People around me thought that I'm crazy for spending that kind of money on 2 cats,
but then again I don't care anymore what people think of me.
I got Mucky in August 1981. She was about 6 to 8 weeks old. She loved to fetch
like a dog when she was little. I always thought she was a he, until the day
I took "him" to have "him" spayed. The nurse came running out of the office
and said, "It's a female cat, we have to neuter her, that's going to take a
little while." At home I wrapped Mucky with some gauze bandages, so she
wouldn't pull her stitches out. When the bandage came loose, she brought it
back to me, so I could wrap her up again. Everytime I would go to work, she
would stand at the door and cry all day long, at least that is what I was told by my neighbors.
So I decided to get her a playmate.
I picked up Major as he was barely 6 weeks old. He was a mean little kitten,
loved to climb the curtains and fight like crazy with Mucky, but she treated
him, as if he was her own. She even let him pretend to nurse. They became best
friends. When the time came, to move to the US, there was no question, that
Major and Mucky were going also. They had to have some shots and got to fly in
an airplane. Once we got here a couple of days later, they had no problems
adjusting to their new environment.
Then one day in January 1988, my husband found a little kitten behind the
house and felt sorry for it. So there was cat #3, Tiger.
At 9 month old we had him spayed also. He got to be a pretty good sized cat
after that. In November 1988 we picked up cat #4. Tony.
He and Tiger became best friends. In June of 1991 Tiger got really sick and
died a few days later. The other cats looked for him for a few days, and then
life went back to the usual.
May 1993 a very loving, but also wild, cat arrived at my front door. He was
starving, and I made the "mistake" of feeding him. Well needless to say, I
had cat #5, Jinxy, who lived outside. 4 cats in the
house was enough for me. One day he came home and had a big sore on his leg,
couldn't hardly walk, so we took him to the Veterinerian, who fixed him right
up. He had to stay in our Outbuilding for a week or so, till he could run
again. In July 1994 he wouldn't come for his food. I finally found him laying
beside the road. I thought he had gotten run over, so we took him to the Vet
again. Come to find out, he had gotten Cat Leukemia. The Vet gave us some
medicine for him, but it was too late and on 26. July 1994 Jinxy died.
In March of 1995 Tony got sick and spent a few days at the Veterinarian. On
13 March 1995 he died of a blockage in his bladder, which is very common in
spayed cats. Well, I was left with the two cats I had started out with.
Major would sleep a lot, and Mucky wanted to be petted a lot or watched TV.
Then right before christmas of 1995 she got really sick too. We took her to
the Vet, who diagnosed her with kidney failure. He didn't give us much hope.
I bought her some Vitamin paste and would force her to eat it. I just didn't
want to give up. After seven days of no food and water, she started eating
again. That was the best christmas present I could have ever asked for. One
year later, she got the same thing, this time I started the Vitamin paste
immediately, and got her some medicine from the vet. She would get better for
a couple of weeks and get sick again, till 22.February 1997 at 10:57 am, when
we had her put to sleep. That was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to
make, but she had a good and long life. She had been with us for almost 16
years and is now burried in the back yard under a pine tree.
The first week or so, Major would look for her all the time, but then he changed from the
shy, stay by himself cat, to a loving family pet. He couldn't get enough of the
petting. The last few years he got really picky with his food though. He just wanted
the best from the best, no more off-brands of cat food. And that's ok. He celebrated his 17th birthday a few month ago. This last year Major had been getting thinner and thinner even knowing he ate like a horse. I took him to the veterinarian who diagnosed him with probable kidney failure. We couldn't afford the high cost of further tests and treatment and the vet said at his age it wouldn't really be the humane thing to do anyways to put him through all those treatments. I noticed the day before Thanksgiving that he wouldn't eat or drink. He just laid around the house. By that evening he couldn't stand up anymore. I knew it was time to say "Good Bye". Probably one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Then Thanksgiving morning 2000 we all sat around and petted him a few more times which was received by heavy purring. At 8:30 am Major drew his last breath. We buried my friend Major beside Mucky in a quiet spot in the yard under a pine tree.
May all my cats rest in peace and have a wonderful time in heaven where I hope to join them one day.