Cat. Felis Silvestris Catus. Not much to describe the one-eyed (no, he's not winking!), chewed eared ruffian that we rescued and who became our companion and friend.We had a bad week. On the 7th December we had to go to Essex (nearly four hours motorway from where we live) to visit Vivienne's mum, who was very ill. We arrived home in the early hours of the morning to find Strider sick. He'd been fine when we'd left him that morning and by the time we found him he was one ill boy.
We took him to the vet - yes, it was about 2am, but without it he would have died by the time we woke up in the morning. We got drips in him, and fed him a diet of re-hydration and supportive medications and kept him going a little over 36 hours. Then the thing we feared happened; the phone rang at about 9pm. The treatments had only helped to slow his decline, Strider was starting to suffer and the duty vet wasn't prepared to let it go on. So I went down there, shedding more than the odd tear or two as I drove into town, and as soon as I saw him I knew I had to help him.
I held him and talked to him, and eventually he relaxed, lay down with his paws and chin on my hand, just as he alwasy did at home, and started to purr his contented ragged, off-beat purr.
And he died.
We gave him the shot anyway, as he was already catheterised, just to make sure he wasn't in pain, but in truth he had already gone...
A little while ago we had nursed another adopted poushca through kidney failure; he died in October this year as I was driving home from a day working away; if I hadn't been stuck in traffic I would have been home. As it was Vivienne was home on her own and had to look after him as his heart failed.
Not nice.
And so it was that when Strider needed help on his way I wasn't about to put her through it again, and went on my own. As it turned out it was as good an end as we could ever have hoped for. This was one crittur that had had a tough life; he parted us with grace and dignity...
...and the other day we brought him home again. I didn't want to bury another cat; I'd already done two this year, and a third was a bit much even for me, that has been doing all the family pets for pretty much the last twenty years. So we had him cremated, and at the crematorium they placed his ashes into a sleeping black cat sculpture and he came back to us with a bunch of flowers and a condolence card. He's great...in fact he's sitting on the coffee table behind me and joins me on my desk occasionally, just as he always did.
A few more tears fell the day he came back, and I find myself choked up now as I write these words.
He was old and it was his time, but we're going to miss that old boy.
When I feel a little more distance and clarity I'll tell you about the other cats that have shared our home; Magic, Arfur, Katie, Rumour and more about Strider.
Till then, I feel in need of a cup of tea. And possibly even a nice glass of this really dark rum I just got...or even two. Well, I have a friend to toast...
Ciao.
