- Joined
- Jun 25, 2003
- Messages
- 645
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I want to tell this story even though it happened a few years ago now. When i was a child my brother brought home a white kitten born in the outdoors named Rocky. The first thing he did was fly up the Xmas tree. He was a outdoor/indoor cat his whole life. Rocky travelled from Winnipeg to Vancouver when my family moved. Rocky was never a cat who liked to be patted. He was skinny as a rail and scared constantly. THe last few years of his life he really changed. He would go to my dad and be patted and purr and he gained weight and looked really good. We found out he was a Angora cat. Fast forward to the awful day when we lost him. I was walking home (living with my parents at the time) and my dh called my cell phone(i was 5 minutes away). He said "Rocky is dying" I said "What do you mean??!!" He said he's lying on the flooor growling and in pain. I rushed home and he was on the floor panting,growling and not wanting to be touched. He ran to the door and i called the vet explaing i had a cat in agony and very mad. The vet said to cover him up and bring him in. Upon arriving at the vet,they said he had a large tumor that had ruptered. (we never knew it was there). He said he could do surgery but his chances were slim. By the time we were off the phone the vet said he was going down very fast. We choose to say goodbye and let him sleep in gods hands
I miss Rocky. He was a beautiful cat,a great mouser everything. He was about 8 years old when he passed away.
Take care my buddy and i'll meet you at Rainbow Bridge.
Take care my buddy and i'll meet you at Rainbow Bridge.