Loss is really difficult to handle. It doesn't matter how it happens, whether it comes unexpectedly or you have time to prepare for it. I had to make the dreadful decision to put down my seventeen-year-old cat. I stroked her head as she stopped breathing today. I've never had to do this before. I've also never had a relationship with a pet for this long before. I was only fifteen when my mom and I adopted Tigger. She was a three-month-old stray who had been found in a tree, and she was receiving royal treatment at the SPCA; while all the other cats were in cages, this beauty was kept in the administrator's office. We went into this office to fill out the paperwork to adopt a lovely orange and white, short-haired kitten, and we left the office with this extraordinary medium-length-haired tabby. My mom instantly forgot about the other cat when she saw Tigger. She also chose her name.
Tigger had a pretty consistent life until I went to university, but she was cool because she was most attached to my mom. However, I was the only one who used to pick her up and hold her. Her life was first turned upside down when a very neurotic miniature Schnauzer entered the picture. She had been replaced with this cute little puppy who required constant care and attention, and as she grew bigger, she started to chase Tigger anytime she saw her.
Then our mom died. It was so sad to watch her sitting outside Mom's bedroom, pawing at the door, wondering why no one was letting her in. And then I was back in India and she had no one who really loved her. She was left with the crazy dog and the wretched woman who only cares for herself.
When I suddenly found myself homeless last year and had to find a place to live, Tigger became the centre of the universe after many years of taking a back seat. She was very sick when I got back to search for an apartment. She had been neglected by someone who claimed to care about her, but who was too obsessed with herself to find it odd that this cat had lost almost half her body weight in a couple of months.
I got her treated for a bad bladder infection, and after that was cleared up, she was diagnosed with kidney disease, which is common with older cats. When the vet changed her diet, it led to the resurfacing of an old colon problem. So, we changed her food again, and she did really well for about a year.
She had a good year and a bit alone with me. She adjusted to the apartment in just a couple of hours--probably relieved after the previous environment in which she had been living--and we had a good thing. I treated her like the invaluable part of me life she was. And now she's gone. I keep seeing her little face. The injection took her very fast. I knew it was the right decision; I knew it was her time; but that doesn't make it any easier.
Tigger had a pretty consistent life until I went to university, but she was cool because she was most attached to my mom. However, I was the only one who used to pick her up and hold her. Her life was first turned upside down when a very neurotic miniature Schnauzer entered the picture. She had been replaced with this cute little puppy who required constant care and attention, and as she grew bigger, she started to chase Tigger anytime she saw her.
Then our mom died. It was so sad to watch her sitting outside Mom's bedroom, pawing at the door, wondering why no one was letting her in. And then I was back in India and she had no one who really loved her. She was left with the crazy dog and the wretched woman who only cares for herself.
When I suddenly found myself homeless last year and had to find a place to live, Tigger became the centre of the universe after many years of taking a back seat. She was very sick when I got back to search for an apartment. She had been neglected by someone who claimed to care about her, but who was too obsessed with herself to find it odd that this cat had lost almost half her body weight in a couple of months.
I got her treated for a bad bladder infection, and after that was cleared up, she was diagnosed with kidney disease, which is common with older cats. When the vet changed her diet, it led to the resurfacing of an old colon problem. So, we changed her food again, and she did really well for about a year.
She had a good year and a bit alone with me. She adjusted to the apartment in just a couple of hours--probably relieved after the previous environment in which she had been living--and we had a good thing. I treated her like the invaluable part of me life she was. And now she's gone. I keep seeing her little face. The injection took her very fast. I knew it was the right decision; I knew it was her time; but that doesn't make it any easier.
