- Joined
- Mar 17, 2017
- Messages
- 22
- Purraise
- 9
Hi, I'm so glad I found this forum, We lost our gorgeous boy, Neo, two months ago. We've since adopted two kittens from a rescue centre, but I still can't stop thinking about Neo. He came to live with us at six weeks old. I brought him home and he was asleep on the sofa when my partner, Nigel, got home from work. Nigel sat down next to him and little Neo woke up and with no hesitation, climbed onto Nigel's lap and kept on going until he reached his shoulder, where he promptly fell asleep and stayed there for hours! Well, after that there was no separating them, Neo loved Nigel and vice-versa. I found it harder to bond with him as he was very aggressive with me at times. I was afraid to walk around bare-footed as Neo would attack my ankles - and not in a playful way! He would hiss and growl at me, and I had cuts and scratches on my feet all the time. I remember saying to Nigel, 'If this doesn't stop, he'll have to go - I can't handle this!' As he got bigger the attacks got less frequent but he was a lot stronger and I was actually scared of him at times, but I kind of got used to him and when he wasn't being aggressive he was a lovely, intelligent and hilarious cat with bags of personality. The neighbours all loved him, he used to visit all of them, especially the elderly lady next door - he used to go to her house, up to the bedroom and fall asleep on her bed. When she told me, I apologised but she laughed and said she enjoyed his company and he was welcome any time - but she and everyone else said the same - 'He lets me stroke him three times, then he bites!' All the men in the village talked to him and called him 'mate', like he was one of them. Some time before Christmas, we noticed that his breathing sounded louder than usual, and he sometimes made a rasping sound, we weren't that worried and he seemed fine, but a little while later, I noticed that he'd lost his 'spark', he seemed a little bit quieter than usual. After Christmas we took him to the vet and he stayed in for an examination under anesthetic. Then came the phone call that made our world fall apart...... the vet had found a growth in his throat. All the questions..'Is it cancer? Is it treatable? How bad it it?' ..... The vet said he could operate, but it was in a bad place - he started talking about blood loss, trauma, and Neo possibly dying on the operating table - and even if he got through it, the growth would almost certainly come straight back. He put Neo on steroids to try to shrink it, but poor Neo rapidly went downhill, he was eating non-stop but losing weight, and I could see his shape changing, his stomach looked rounder and his back legs looked thinner, he was listless and coughing. The steroids weren't working. Our vet examined him again and told us Neo was getting weaker, the operation would probably kill him and if we did nothing, the growth would bloke his airway and choke him. He was given another shot of fast-working steroid - if there was going to be any improvement we'd see it within 24 hours. There wasn't. I woke up two days later and thought Nigel was snoring, but it was the sound of Neo breathing. He ate well that day, he went out into the garden and watched the birds, same as usual, but he wasn't washing, his movements were slow. I made the decision that day. Nigel couldn't do it, he couldn't say, 'Yes, it's time' he couldn't come with me to the vet. I drove Neo there, talking and singing to him, I signed the papers and paid the money. I made sure he had a sedative first. The vet left us alone while the sedative took effect, and I cuddled Neo for the first time since we had him, without him biting me. I told him he was the best boy ever and that we loved him. I left his cat box at the vets - I couldn't bare to take it home empty. I drove home, I felt ok, Nigel's eyes were red from crying. I went out and did the food shop, I was still ok. We had tea, I did the washing up, I was ok, I was coping with it. Then I went upstairs for something and next thing I knew I was on my knees on the landing, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt like I was going to die. Nigel came up and we both cried all night. I hardly ever drink but I drank a whole bottle of gin that night. In the weeks that followed I saw Neo everywhere, cried every day, Couldn't clean the house in case I cleaned some of his fur away - I even called his name, hoping he would come running in. We have his ashes here, we're not ready to scatter them yet - if ever. We want him here with us. Maybe when the summer comes and the days are warm, and when the garden is full of flowers, maybe we'll scatter his ashes near his favourite scratching post between our two apple trees. Maybe.
xxxxx
