Seems like just a day or two ago that I posted some pictures of my cats in all kinds of ridiculously comfortable positions, among them this one of Mooch.
And now I find myself having to post the picture below, also of Mooch, and say that we lost him today. It was a tough choice but he’d developed a brain tumor that was causing him to lose his balance and fall over.
As any animal owner knows, it’s the hardest decision you have to make. And you swear you’ll never bring another one into your home and your heart because it’s so very hard to have to put them down or see them die. But you always do.
They bring so much joy to your life when they are with you. Mooch was with us eight exasperating years. He was feral when we found him, lurking about our back deck, hoping for food. I’m a sucker for all cats and immediately started feeding him. My cats loved him and they’d all play together. But then, even in snow, he’d go back to the woods and wetlands behind our house to sleep at night.
He’d be back in the morning for more handouts and to lounge about the deck with our other cats. We finally captured him, had him neutered, chipped, and got his shots and he began to mellow a bit. He joined us on walks to the beach or through the wetlands with the other cats, and eventually began coming in the house to sleep now and then.
But being an adult feral when we got him, he was never going to be completely tamed. And, while he eventually deigned to sleep on our bed at night, in eight years we were never allowed to touch him, except for those once a year vet visits that meant trauma for him and an emergency room visit for me.
This time, the cost to him and to us became too much. Aside from the actual costs, I just couldn’t bear the idea of putting him through repeated vet visits because he got so completely traumatized each time. So, today I stood in the vet’s office crying and finally said, no, let’s put him down.
They sedated him and for the first time in our lives together, I got to really pet him, rub his head and belly and that special place on his back that he’d gotten too fat to reach himself. I was there for the end and glad for the chance even though it was painful. I didn’t want him to die without the opportunity pet him and let him know how much he meant to me.
I like to think we both won in the end. He had a safe and loving home for eight years and I finally got to touch him! I had seven years of knowing the sweetest, most frustrating cat I’ll likely ever own and I loved every minute of it.
Bye, sweet Mooch.