There will never be another kitty like Henry. I'm amazed that I even got to have him in my life. It started back in August of this year. I have a friend who works with ferals, and constantly reposts images of kitties that urgently need homes - often those residing in kill shelters. It wore me down, and I found myself perusing Craigslist for free cats, as I sometimes do. I should really stop. But anyway, I came across one ad in particular, one for a VERY fat cat, black and white. Something about his face just drew me in, and I knew I had to adopt him. His previous adopter, who got him in August of 2012, discovered she was allergic, and he had been living with her friend, who was about to move. He was then about eleven years old, and I didn't want him to spend his senior years in the cold confines of a shelter. I snatched him up late in August, about an hour from my home, and brought him home with me.
He hid out in the bathroom for a few days, as cats often do. But he and my others mostly left each other alone - no major fighting, even though I left the door open. He was, as I said, VERY fat, and living off of Meow Mix. I also discovered he was missing about half of his teeth, and he was declawed. It gave him the appearance of soft, baby paws. He didn't seem to be in pain, as some cats are even years after a declawing, so for that, I was glad.
Henry took to sleeping in my bed, and when he could, crawling on top of my chest. I tried to let him stay there as much as possible, but he was so fat that he kind of crushed my chest! He was mortal enemies with Noelle after they got into a fight one night (nothing serious or damaging), but they largely steered clear of one another, and eventually, the space in which they could peacefully coexist grew more favorable. I think his favorite cat was Rorie, my oldest and biggest kitten, who is outgoing and loving. My heart melted the first time I saw Henry groom him.
I only had Henry in my life for a few months before his health declined abruptly, and he developed Hepatic Lipidosis. I tried to raise funds to save his life, but he just got so sick so fast, as cats do. Through it all, though, he remained the sweet baby he always was. That's why I say I'm surprised I got to have him at all - how could such a sweet, loving baby ever be abandoned by anyone who knew him? The friends I had who met him loved him. He never scratched or bit, and rarely hissed. I knew he didn't like the syringe feedings, but he didn't try to fight me, just awkwardly tried to squirm away from them. He would never hurt me.
At the final vet visit, where I made the decision to let him rest, he purred. They were examining his heart, and looked up, surprised, to find that he was purring, even then. Even in this strange, unfamiliar environment, he was a little love bug, who only wanted to be loved. I wish now that I had held him more, pet him more. I let them put him to sleep that night, though, because I knew I'd always want one more hour, one more night.
I waited in a room with a nice couch and pillows and flowers while they put a line in him by which to administer his last medication. It took a little longer than expected, because his blood pressure was so low; that told me I was making the right decision. It really was time, and I didn't want him to linger and suffer. When they brought him in, wrapped in a hot pink towel, they told me he had been very good for it, and I wasn't at all surprised.
I held him and told him how much I loved him, and how grateful I was to have had him in my life. I told him that although I had been an agnostic since my teen years, now, looking at him, I couldn't accept that this would be the last moment we would be together. There must be something more. I told him he would have sweet dreams, and then he would be made well again, and I told him to wait for me. I then held him as the medicine was injected, and he passed quickly, without pain. He purred right up until the end.
I picked out a nice little maple-finished urn box, with a little brass key that locks it. I'll be turning the key into a necklace, and eventually, getting a tribute tattoo for Henry. I had him for such a short time, but it feels like he was with me for ages, and certainly he has left a lasting impact on my heart. Although it hurts now, especially as this is my first real loss, I am so glad to have had the chance to love him, and I am so happy that he spent his last few months in a warm, loving home. I think he knew how I felt about him, how much he meant to me. Even at the end, when he was so sick, he purred because he was happy, and that makes me happy.
His passing has changed my world views, and I can't help but believe that, one day, we'll meet again. I love him with all of my heart.
Thank you to everyone who has supported us in this time. It has made his passing a little easier to bear.
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