I missed the start of #blogjune this year so I’m just popping my head up here very briefly.
It has been a sad few last days with the passing away of Harrison cat on Friday night. He had been to and from the vet for the past two weeks as he had gone off his food and water. He didn’t seem to be in any pain or distress but it was strange. He also seemed to be looking a bit raggedy for the last month or so. I didn’t take too much notice of this though, because he was never one of those endlessly grooming-himself kind of cats.
Still, it turned out that his white blood count was low. A shot of antiobiotics a couple of weeks ago gave him a boost for a few days, but by the next check up he came up and just lay around the house. Not in his curled up, cosy, sunning himself kind of way. More in a sad, pathetic “I can’t be bothered moving myself from here”. There was still no eating or drinking and then on Thursday his breathing started to look strange. Luckily, I was home sick on Friday from work and a visit from my parents confirmed the breathing weirdly was continuing so I made a late afternoon appointment at the vet.
After an x-ray it was confirmed that poor Harrison had a virus, peculiar and rare to cats where there lungs and chest cavity fills with fluid. Part of his lung had started to collapse. There’s no treatment. Only palliative care, which would seem to prolong his misery. He was really starting to have trouble breathing so in the end the decision was made quickly.
I gave him the biggest cuddle and smoothed his grey fur as the kind vet took care of him.
He was such a good cat. Even when he made it impossible to have any kind of house plants of flowers (except if they were hidden in the bathroom with all doors closed) because he would eat them. Even when as a kitten he destroyed the underneath of my blue corner lounge and built himself a little cubby hole inside it. Even when he used my cane furniture as a scratching post. Even when me moulted consistently and well over all the furniture. Even when he hid from the vacuum cleaner and trades people in big scary boots. Even when he would sit at the window and make a weird noise in his throat at the birds outside. Even when he would scare the bejesus out of you while taking a running leap up the screen door in search of geckoes and then just hang there with his claws. Even when he could tell I was going away and he would jump into the empty suitcase before I could start packing. Even when he used to vomit a few times when I got home from holidays….just to teach me a lesson for leaving him. Even when he would sneak into my bedroom and hide under the bed until I was nearly asleep and then jump on the bed giving me a small fright. Even when he discovered the tiny carpet snake in the track of the screen door one morning and started playing with it before I could slam the door shut with the snake outside. Even when he would weave his way around my legs to tell me it was his dinner time so hurry the hell up. And especially when he would sit next to me on the lounge while I watched TV or had a nap and just keep me company.
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