 Purred: Thu Apr 29, '10 1:17am PST |
 | |  | | Today one of the stray/unowned cats (he wasn't really feral because despite being born to completely feral parents he learned to enjoy people and come up to them for food) we've been feeding and providing shelter for came onto our property to die. We didn't see him for a while then he showed today and acted fine though he had a healing wound on his ear. Tonight I heard this god awful noise coming from outside, and opened to the door to see him plop out onto our enclosed back porch/deck (it's fully enclosed, insulated, and carpeted). I gave him some veterinary strength pain killer (prescribed for cats, dogs, and guinea pigs) and was ready to get him to the nearest emergency vet an hour away, but no more than 20 minutes after the pain medication he passed. When he was younger before I even knew he existed my fiance's father caught him and his siblings for exams, fixing, and vaccinations with a vet who gave him a discount since they were born feral and pretty fearful at that point. They said the cat's heart was basically a ticking time bomb, he had an extremely serious murmur and it could be as little as a few months before it took him. Ultimately it was obviously the heart problems that ended his time.
I know he wasn't an owned cat and we didn't see him all the time, but I'm really shaken up about this. I tried at one point to completely tame him and keep him indoors but every time I tried he'd run out a door and not come back for days and usually come back onto our or our neighbors' properties all the worse for wear. He was skittish but not nearly as much so as the others we feed, and he would actually let you pet him. He died letting us pet him, kneading and purring. He seemed to be such an optimistic spirit.
I guess what gets to me the most is that of the houses on these several blocks that put out food or shelter for the strays and ferals, he chose our house to die at. Did he somehow know we'd give him a comfortable place to go, that we wouldn't let him suffer, or was it just a tragic coincidence? I will probably never know, but in a way I'm glad because I at least know he didn't die out in the cold rain and he got a good dose of pain killer before crossing the bridge.
My fiance's father and his ex called him Tres. |  |  | |  |
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